Queen of Hearts
by TayteFFN
Summary: Pre-FE6. A story about forgiveness, and a story about selfishness - the type that can only destroy. Aife has returned to her Lycia-Bern border estate to provide flood relief for her people, but a Lycian spy and a Bernese King are vying for her heart. Ch7: The Lycian spy couldn't outrun the king forever. Matthew x OC x Zephiel Ch9: Finale!
1. The Warning

**A/N: Hey all! Tayte / Wanchoo11 here. I'm excited about this one.** **I love to give depth to more minor characters in this series and involving the unlikeliest characters into each other's paths, so we've got a bunch of FE7 and FE6 characters coming up in this one. In order to make it accessible, I am thinking I'll add some info about these characters to give you reminders of who they are in the A/N as they come up. So if you are a pro about one but not the other, have no fear, I'll make it all clear! (Oh god I'm rhyming.) The devil's in the details, and knowing more about their backgrounds should shed more light on the nuances of the endings. (Yes, plural!)**

 **I had uploaded this one several years ago, but wound up writing myself into a corner back then and never finished. I just picked this story up to finish for NaNoWriMo, and I literally just completed the "Bad Ending" two hours ago. Now working on the "Good Ending"! Two for the price of one! Is that a bang for your buck or what? Hmm, what? There are no bucks involved? Darn.**

* * *

It was under the waxing moon, on the foremost wall of Bern Castle, that a girl of about seventeen years lounged, a dagger twirling in each hand. The sky was a sprawling navy banner, stars scattered across it like marbles, glinting with the girl's mischief. She was lying on the wall, under the eaves of a tree to avoid detection by wyvern riders on patrol, and the shadows embraced her body, revealing nothing of her presence to anyone inside or outside the building. No wavy lock of her shoulder-length, honey-caramel hair was identified under the cowl of her night-black cloak. Her glinting amethyst eyes were sharp, and always a shock against her hair, penetrating even, but they too were lost in a black abyss of shadow where they saw everything and let nothing out. The one-sided smile she had was completely her own, secretive and mischievous enough to disarm any man. She could have run circles around men with her wit and grace and charm, but she wasn't interested in them in the least. Her time and silent grace was best spent sneaking about, her wit spent on lies and twisted truths to suit her wills and bidding (though she stuck to truth if she could), and her charm in deceit and trickery.

When she saw a figure come out of the Bern Castle, headed towards the gate, which was just two paces to the right of her, her smile widened. There were two inner walls that he must have had to pass through, alerting the castle guards that he was going out alone. What juicy little rumor will go around about this strange behavior? After the two inner walls, there was a lawn that provided no cover for anyone. When the figure was only a yard or two from the gate that led out, she spoke, "What do I have here? The prince—or should I say now, _king_ —of Bern, sneaking out of the castle, at night? And _without_ guard?"

She had no worries of anyone other than the king of Bern hearing her. There were no guards in the outermost wall, for Bern was confident in the wyvern patrols it set up. It was to her delight that they missed the tree that grew right against the outer wall. It would be easy sneaking into the castle.

"Ah! I should have known! Come out of hiding, you wretched coward, where I can see you!" replied the newly crowned King Zephiel hotly, unsheathing his sword. His brown eyes glowed with anger. He was a head taller than the girl, his blond hair shone and the crown set upon his head sparkled in the light of the moon.

"Oh, but that's not fun at all!" The girl grinned. "Did you get a message of sorts to meet someone trusted out here? Your mother, perhaps?"

The silence that ensued answered her question.

"Of course," she said. "It's as much as I thought. She's the only one you truly trust other than Murdock and Guinevere, but Murdock would not need to meet with you privately out here, and Guinevere can't set up meetings at this time of night and escape her governess when she's only eight years old. I had thought more of you, dear pri—king. You should have figured out there was an assassin plotting something. Why, everyone says you're so brilliant!"

"Who are you and what do you want?"

"Me? Who I am does not matter. And I want nothing. Well, except I was waiting here to see if you'd fall for the trick. Seriously, you should be more careful. And if by chance you did not take my warning—the warning I've just given you—you'll find yourself pierced by a blade if I don't have a hand in it. Oh, by the way, I saw the assassin waiting by the thorny bushes downriver."

"You're not the assassin?"

"Oh please! It took you this long to figure that out? Why would I be talking to you and give away my presence if I were the assassin? Besides, you're too cute to die. Now then, I suggest you go run home and bring a couple of soldiers you might trust with you down to where the river forks and catch that assassin and give him a good smacking. He and I have something personal, before you ask why I give him away. And don't tell anyone about this meeting, or you'll surely be made a fool of."

Zephiel glared at the shadows of the tree where he guessed he heard the girl's voice from.

The girl chuckled. "By the way, don't hope on catching me when you come back tonight."

"You had better start running now, for I'll have a search party searching for any other assassins, though I'll look forward to finding you instead."

"Good luck, then, Your Highness. Don't blame me if you miss out on your beauty sleep. Now shoo. I'm sure Murdock's noticed your disappearance by now."

Zephiel took several steps back begrudgingly as he kept his eyes on where he thought the girl was. He then warily turned around, listening keenly for any sounds that might notify of her coming close enough to strike him. He looked back several times as well, suspiciously, but he only got a distant chuckle from the girl.

* * *

 **Read and review to let me know which stories to upload faster! ;) Since I am still in a re-upload phase. :D**

 **So we start off our cast of canon characters with Zephiel. Truly fascinating. 3**

 **Zephiel:**

 **The sweet 16 year-old Bernese prince that Eliwood and Co. save from Ursula of the Black Fang. The King Desmond of Bern, his father, had originally sicced Nino and Jaffar to kill him, so that only Guinivere, his daughter from his mistress not his wife, would be an heir to the throne. Nino, seeing how desperately Zephiel wanted to be accepted by his father and for his mother Hellene and himself to be able to live happily with his father, couldn't help but sympathize, what with her own struggles winning Sonia's affections.**

 **You find out from Guinivere in FE6 that Zephiel, whom we've already seen in FE7 was a sweet, kind soul, had changed due to his father's abuses. Desmond tried to assassinate him a second time, proffering him poisoned wine. Zephiel was eager, thinking he had been accepted, and fell ill, though he did not die. After that, he, with the help of Murdock, hid, feigning death and feigning a funeral. When his father approached the casket, wanting to see Zephiel inside, Zephiel introduced Desmond to his sword, killing the king and inheriting the throne. But mostly killing the king.**

 **Ever since killing the king, Guinivere tells Roy in FE6, he is not the same.**

 **"Jealousy. Hate. Greed. Friends, even family members are driven to kill by such ludicrous emotions. Such emotions create fathers who try to kill their own sons to save their own flesh. As long as humans control, as long as humans dictate, as long as humans exist…this madness will never end."**

 **—Zephiel, to Roy in Binding Blade** **  
**


	2. Search

**A/N: Hey all! Tayte / Wanchoo11 here. I'm excited about this one.** **I love to give depth to more minor characters in this series and involving the unlikeliest characters into each other's paths, so we've got a bunch of FE7 and FE6 characters coming up in this one. In order to make it accessible, I am thinking I'll add some info about these characters to give you reminders of who they are in the A/N as they come up. So if you are a pro about one but not the other, have no fear, I'll make it all clear! (Oh god I'm rhyming.) The devil's in the details, and knowing more about their backgrounds should shed more light on the nuances of the endings. (Yes, plural!)**

 **I had uploaded this one several years ago, but wound up writing myself into a corner back then and never finished. I just picked this story up to finish for NaNoWriMo, and I literally just completed the "Bad Ending" two hours ago. Now working on the "Good Ending"! Two for the price of one! Is that a bang for your buck or what? Hmm, what? There are no bucks involved? Darn.**

* * *

The girl felt smug about her current victory over the king. But he would be looking for her. Obviously. She jumped off the 15-foot tall wall and landed neatly in a bunch of leaves she had specifically placed so she wouldn't hurt herself. They were all brown leaves from the last fall, so no one thought it strange that there was a tad bit more in one place than another. They were just leaves, after all.

She scurried eastwards through thick forestry, climbing over fallen logs and crunching through leaves, staying in the shadow of the wall that the moon cast and into the thick woods for an hour or so. Zephiel wouldn't send out a search party here yet, would he? But then again, he _could_. It wouldn't be a bad idea, just setting up the search party immediately, looking for assassins. And she'd get caught.

When she reached the river that came into Bern from the sea in the east, she quickly stripped. Climbing a tree hanging over the river, she placed her clothes in the hollow of the branches, where if one looked up, they wouldn't see any clothing dangling.

She then scurried back down the tree, mumbling to herself angrily about the scratch she had on her thigh from climbing trees being naked, then grabbed the cloak she left at the foot of the tree and wrapped herself in it. The river chuckled merrily at her feet. Tightening the cowl around her face so no strands of hair would escape, she slipped into the freezing arms of the river. The current of the river was great enough that no trace or ripples were made by her presence. Slowly, she positioned herself to face the current, so her cloak would not fly up and reveal her naked body by moonlight. The cloak merged with the shadows of the water, and the constant flapping it caused could have easily been taken for the water playing tricks on the eye.

She rose up again, sneezing.

"Eek!" she whispered to herself. "Can't be doing that, can I?"

The sound of horses' footsteps and clinking armor gave the cue to submerge again. There was one flaw to her plan. When would she know that the knights passed by?

She rose slowly out again, seeing a rock in the middle of the river, large enough to cast shadow over her head.

 _Perfect._

The knights were coming.

She dove and swam to the rock, rising again in the shadows of the rock. The water came together at her face, so she had to kick harder at the water to stay up high enough to breathe. The cowl on her head covered her right eye and stuck, but she wasn't about to risk putting it out of her eye and getting caught. Behind her, the rest of the cloak flowed with the water, melding with the shadow of the rock better than she'd hoped for.

 _I am one lucky gal,_ she thought.

The two knights were to the left of her, on the west bank, their horses picketing blindly with their hooves through the grass.

"What's with His Highness? Why are we out searching the woods at this time of night?" asked one, rather alert.

"I dunno, man. Cap'n caught me with my pants down, though, and that ain't cool," replied the second.

The first one laughed, but didn't reply otherwise. It wasn't long before the two passed northwards, but the girl didn't move until the sound of armor clinking was lost in the wind.

"Losers," she said with a grin as she got out of the water after a final check that no one was around. She plugged her nose to stop a sneeze, and then climbed the tree again. Throwing down her clothes, she slipped back down. "They're as stupid as Narshen," she said to herself, twisting the cloak to get rid of the water. She tried to dry herself off with the cloak as much as possible. She put on her breast band, then a white, strapless undershirt that went down to her belly button. Over that went a green tunic. Slipped on the underwear next, and then the baggy green pants, followed by socks (pretty wet, since she didn't notice the water that dripped into them from the cloak) and plaid boots.

Now every step she took made a squelching sound. "Fun," she remarked about it in irritation. Then she headed warily southwest to the closest village to Bern Castle, Reme.

* * *

What the girl said was true. There _was_ an assassin awaiting Zephiel in the river flowing in from the sea east of Bern. The assassin, a ragged man with cruel jet eyes and uneven black hair that fell over his face, was captured, and a search party was put into effect. Anyone within four miles of the castle would be brought back to the castle to face the king. Only did Murdock learn from Zephiel that there was a girl who warned the king at the gate of the outer wall.

The girl was not found, as she promised the king. There _was_ a merchant caravan that was heading north for Bulgar, Sacae, from the village Bronau, one of the rich ports south of Bern. It was a regular route, but the new mercenary that joined them turned out to be the assassin.

They were brought back to the castle and locked in the dungeons until Zephiel figured out what to do about them.

Zephiel sat in the armchair in his room, facing the fire, deep in thought.

 _Who was that girl?_ he wondered. _She gave away the assassin for a personal reason. Strikes my interest… But her attitude is not desirable. Or is it? No one has ever spoken that way to me. I find it rather interesting…_

"Milord," said Murdock from the door of the room.

"Yes," said Zephiel, not looking away from the fire.

"If I may ask permission to fell the tree beside the gate?"

Zephiel thought for a moment, his head resting on his chin. "No. Not yet."

"Your Highness, it poses a threat. Anyone could come over the wall. I do not understand why this threat wasn't identified earlier, but—"

"No, Murdock. Has the search party returned with anything else? With any girl?"

"No, Your Highness."

"I want to meet that girl again. Tomorrow afternoon, we will visit Reme. I want all the girls that have recently come of age and any about to come of age to be gathered together. I want there to be something that does not let me see them. I want to hear them. I want to hear their voice."

"You want to find the girl, Your Highness?"

"Yes. She spoke insolently to me, and I want to know who is so stupid as to do that to the king of Bern." But Zephiel mentally added, _She's not stupid; I know that for sure. So who is this bold girl?_

"If that is what you wish, Your Highness."

"Good. Change the search party every two hours. I do not want my men to lose too much sleep and become exhausted. Never have the same man search twice I day. Double wyvern patrols at night. After that is done, rest."

"It will be done, Your Highness."

"Murdock."

"Yes, Your Highness?"

"Make sure to rest after that is done."

"…Of course, Your Highness."

* * *

"Aife! Where were you?!" asked Mirriam, the chubby middle-aged barmaid of the village (yet she still attracted). The sound of laughter and the buzz of loud words immediately accompanied her.

The girl, Aife, stepped into the bar through the back door. The hall there had hardly enough room for one person, let alone two. There was one candle that lit it. Aife squeezed myself past Mirriam and turned right, away from the bar and started up the narrow, wooden stairs, giving a small sneeze in answer to Mirriam's question. Mirriam would not take that for an answer. She squeezed past Aife up the stairs and stopped at the top, blocking her way. "Aife! Answer me! What have you been doing all night long? It's past midnight!"

"I had personal dealings with Rishta again," Aife finally replied tonelessly, with as much enthusiasm and energy as a nail.

"Him again?" asked Mirriam, relieved. "Oh good. If it were any other man, I'd have kicked you out. So, what was it this time?"

"I'm not that kind of girl, Mirriam, you know that. Frankly, I haven't met any man who's worth my time. I saw Rishta with the merchant caravan this afternoon. He was going to assassinate the king."

" _What?_ " said Mirriam, aghast. Her red curls seemed to flop upwards in alarm and her green eyes widened.

"Do I need to repeat myself?" Aife asked. "Now, move out of the way and let me sleep, will ya?"

"Hey, Mirriam!" came a rumbling man's voice from downstairs. "How 'bout another round 'a rum? Eh?"

"Hold your mugs and I'm comin'!" Mirriam replied in a holler that made Aife's ears ring. Turning back to Aife, Mirriam burst again, "Look at your hair! It's dripping wet! Were you taking a midnight dip in the river? It explains your cold! You stupid girl! Go get a towel and dry yourself up before. Then strip and go to bed. You can't sleep in these clothes!"

"I know how to go to bed, Mirriam," Aife replied as Mirriam squeezed past her and hurried downstairs. "And I don't sleep in the nude," she added quietly to herself.

After drying her hair and changing into a dry white tunic and white breeches, she let herself drop into the bed in the room that she rented, though not before stumbling over an empty bottle of rum.

"I told her not to let anyone else use this room, dammit," she whispered to herself before falling asleep.

* * *

"Aife! Aife, wake up!" came Mirriam's voice. She was shaking Aife like a rag doll with her strong hands on the poor girl's shoulders. She could have easily chucked the girl out the crummy window, if Aife was able to fit in it. But even the slender Aife could not.

"Hey! I'm awake! No need to rack up a headache this early in the morning!" Aife screamed, sitting up. Mirriam sat on the edge of a higgledy-piggledy bed. The room was chaos. There were two bottles of rum lying on the floor, along with Aife's now-dry clothes and a damp cloak. There were some papers scattered on a wardrobe, a small painting hanging crooked on the wall opposite of the wardrobe, then another wall with the only window that lacked curtains, and a stool in front of the window. The whole room reeked of rum (and Aife easily got high).

"Early morning? Pff! That was ages ago! It's late afternoon!" said Mirriam.

"Late afternoon?" asked Aife. "Well, if I was sleeping so well, why'd you have to wake me up?" Her mind was still disoriented from sleep, and she acted nothing like herself at that time.

"The king's come! It's the strangest thing of all!"

"So? Why should I care?" asked Aife, getting up and opening the wardrobe, picking out what to wear for the day.

"He's got a tent that he's in, and he's ordered all girls around 16 to line up and has them talk to him for a moment."

"Uh huh. So?" Aife gave a snap. At the snap, Mirriam locked the door and positioned herself in front of the window. Aife began to change into a tunic, but Mirriam said, "No! Today, you're dressing like a lady! I know this has something to do with you, Aife, and I want you to act as normal for a girl as possible. So, get out that gown Narshen bought you, and the rubies."

"You're kidding!"

"I am not! Now! Get dressed, we haven't all day!"

Aife sighed, not understanding what all the big deal was about.

"Now then," said Mirriam as Aife changed, "breakfast is pancakes today."

"Breakfast is pancakes everyday," Aife murmured.

"Well, you have the chance to live high and mighty! If you don't like what we have for breakfast, go home!"

"Home? To Narshen? Ew. No. So, do I get extra syrup today?"

"No, we're running low on it. And I wonder why."

"Hey, don't call me a syrup hog. I didn't do it."

"Last I remember, you swamped your platter with syrup."

"Hey, that was just yesterday. Besides, you said I get extra syrup yesterday. Don't deny it."

"Just hurry up! Or the soldiers will manhandle you out of here half-dressed!"

"Soldiers?"

Aife had finally tugged on her violet gown. She didn't need a corset to stress out curves for her. Pulling on matching gloves, she snapped again, giving Mirriam the signal that she wasn't needed to cover the window anymore. Mirriam helped brush back Aife's hair and tie it back with a ribbon as Aife fussed about the pain and searched for decent shoes in the bottom drawer of the wardrobe.

"Ready!" said Mirriam finally. They had decided against putting on the ruby teardrop earrings, for it would show too much noble blood, too much rich, in Aife. Why Aife lived in a bar/inn when she could stay in the Tepal Castle at the Lycian/Bern border with her brother Narshen and live in luxury was beyond Mirriam, but she'd heard enough times 'Ew! With Narshen! That's a life of torment!' too many times to ask why it would be so. She didn't want to go so far.

Mirriam led Aife down the stairway, holding her hand the entire way as she led the girl outside. The two guards that were waiting for Mirriam to return with the girl Aife glanced at each other after looking Aife up and down. Aife looked away from them, faking shyness.

"Such a heartbreaker," said Mirriam softly to Aife.

In the center of the village, there was a blue tent with a line of two other girls waiting. The vendors shop and the armory were parallel across the street from each other. The village also had a shabby bakery and a tanner's. The tent stood out against the dreary brown like a diamond in mud.

"Not very many my age, huh?" Aife asked. "Good. I'm not dressed fanciest."

"Whatever you wear will look fancy on you," said Mirriam. Aife let go of Mirriam's hand and walked to the line, wondering if she'd get caught. The king was looking for her, was he? Then she'll just have to act as unlike herself as possible. She was being a rather arrogant last night. She'll just be extremely shy, not look at the king's feet even, speak so she was barely audible, and keep saying 'Your Highness'. That should work. And an accent. Ilian? Nah. Lycian? That would be better. Lycian-Bern would be best, wouldn't it? That's what she was best at.

The girl who was currently inside the tent walked out, puzzled, when the king's voice rose and said, "Next!"

"What did he do?" asked the girl in front of Aife in a whisper.

"It was the strangest thing indeed. He told me to describe the sky," replied the first girl in the same volume.

"What?"

"And he had a chair with his back turned to me."

"He didn't even look at you?"

"Then I bothered putting all this on for no reason?" asked Aife. Her shoulders drooped. She coughed. _Oh! No coughing or sneezing. Might give him ideas._

"Next!" came King Zephiel's voice. Aife rolled her eyes as the girl in front of her left. Aife was able to hear what he said. "Please, miss, describe the sky."

"Th-The sky? Hold on, let me check what it's like first."

The girl came out with a dumbstruck face. "It is true," she whispered to Aife. She looked up. The sky was a brilliant blue with hardly a cloud and a dazzling sun that made Aife terribly hot. She went inside again.

"It is a wonderful blue stretch of sky without a single cloud, Your Highness. And the sun is riding high. What more is there to say?"

Aife was called in next.

"What is the sky like?" asked Zephiel.

Aife was tempted to say, 'Why don't you go outside and take a look? Or are you blind too?', but said instead in a stuttering voice, "Th-Th-The sky, Your Highness? I-I-It's…uh, it blue! A-And there aren't a single cloud in it!" Perfect. Messed up grammar, stuttering timid voice, with a trace of Lycian accent.

Zephiel sighed and asked, "Are you the last one?"

"I-I am, Your Highness."

Zephiel stood up and turned around. He seemed surprised when he saw her, eyes looking her up and down as he said, "Go then."

"Oh, I-I'm sorry! My shoe came off…" she said as she put it back on, eyes boring into the ground. "Dear me…" She sighed and shuffled (loudly) outside, and back to the bar without a glance back.

"Well," said Mirriam when they were back in the bar and the king and his men had left. "What did he want?"

"He wanted me to describe the sky," Aife replied.

"What did you say?"

"Th-Th-The sky, Your Highness?" Aife mimicked, giving an innocent, wide-eyed look. Mirriam laughed. "I-I-It's…uh, it blue!"

Mirriam laughed harder.

* * *

Zephiel spent the afternoon at the nearest village, where he had the ladies who had come-of-age recently or were about to line up. He had them speak, asked them to describe the sky, and he closed his eyes and listened. There were none with the voice of the girl he met. The last one was so scared she stuttered terribly and didn't speak properly in terms of grammar. He was exhausted as he left the village, leaving the people of it rather confused. Why would the king have a line of women speak to him as he put his back to them? Was he looking for someone? Why had he such an acute interest in them suddenly anyway?

Sitting in his armchair, alone in his room again, he sighed. Then he thought of something. The girl knew he'd search for her. She could possibly have set off before he got to the village. He moaned and slid down on the chair.

"Your Highness?"

Murdock's voice startled Zephiel back into an erect position. Zephiel cleared his voice and said, "Yes, Murdock?"

"The merchants beg to be set free. They've food that will rot before they can supply them to Bulgar, and they would be unable to sell."

Zephiel sighed. "Have Xavier search them with spells. If nothing comes up, set them free."

"Yes, Your Highness. Is there anything I may do for you? You seem… exasperated."

"That's because I am. Murdock, bring back all the girls of age 14-19 back to the castle, anywhere…40 miles from here. Wait… What is wrong with me? Why am I doing this? I have better things to do than search for a defiant little hag!" Zephiel stood up with determination. "Forget the girl. What do I have to see to?"

"There has been a massive flood in western Bern. The villages need aid, supplies, encouragement."

"Then we will give it. Personally."

"Anything to get your mind off the girl?" asked Murdock with a smile.

Zephiel looked back at him, then sighed. "Anything. But one more thing…"

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Tonight, I will go to the gate again. You will follow me, though not too closely."

"Your Highness, are you _smitten_ with a girl you've never seen?"

* * *

Aife was lying upon the outer wall of Bern Castle again. The sky was cloudy, threatening of rain. It had been pouring an hour ago.

Aife couldn't care less about the clouds, however. She was too deep in thoughts of what she'd do for a living. Did she gain the king's trust? Could she work as a spy for Bern? Gossip she liked, sneaking she liked, and nothing was fun without danger in it.

And as she predicted, King Zephiel came to the gate again, this time, on a horse. He was dressed in a light blue cape and a white tunic lined with diamonds, apparently not planning on sneaking around this time.

"You're not going to able to see me, you know, even on the horse," Aife said.

"Who are you? Give me your name," said Zephiel.

"How about Terra? I like the name Terra. You can call me that."

"How about impudence?" asked Zephiel, playing her game.

"Hmm. I guess that works too. Impudence it is."

Aife grinned when she saw Zephiel frown in surprise.

"Why are you here this time?" asked Zephiel when he recovered.

"Hmm. I don't know. I thought you might come back and decided it might be fun to play tricks. Got nothing better to do."

For a moment, they were both silent. Then, 'Impudence' said, "So, heard you went to Reme and checked out the girls. 15-17 year olds? Is that how old do you think I am?"

"You are not?"

"That's a definite maybe."

Zephiel sighed. "Why do you play games with me?"

"Because! It's fun! I told you just a moment ago, didn't I?"

"You are the strangest person I've met."

"You haven't really met a variety either, but I guess I'm just one of a kind."

"What do you want?"

"Not this again."

"Come down here like an honorable person and let me see whom I speak to."

"I'll pass, thanks."

"I order you to."

"Or else what?"

"I do not like your defiance, madam."

"You already tried to find me once. Twice, actually. Are you going to try again?"

"I'm coming up there."

"How do you plan to do that?"

Zephiel began to try standing on the horse. Aife, seeing this, backed away to the tree.

"Oh, sure, break a leg," she said, chuckling. Zephiel fell forward, catching onto the side of the wall. "Hey, I never knew the ground on that side was elevated. Damn! You could climb that?"

She got back into the tree, making her way through the tangle of branches to the other side. Zephiel was fidgeting with something at his waist.

"Don't tell me you brought a torch," said Aife warily.

"How did you—!" Zephiel looked towards her, then seemed to be grin in the shadows.

"Loser!" Aife said before hopping down to the ground.

"Murdock! Now!" came Zephiel's voice from the wall.

"Dammit! You brought _him_ too!?"

Aife put up her cowl and raced back westwards, her mind calculating how to _not_ get caught.

* * *

"What? Where is she?" came Zephiel's voice from somewhere afar.

"Loser," Aife whispered again with a grin. Who knew rain could be a savior? Aife had submerged herself in a fresh mud pool, covering herself from head to toe to hair in mud. She wasn't afraid to get dirty, and it also kept Murdock's wyvern from smelling her. Zephiel moved towards her (too bad he didn't have his horse, he left it at the gate in his rush), and Murdock flew overhead on his wyvern.

"I'm afraid she's beaten me again," said Zephiel to himself quietly as he walked in the direction of Aife. He mistook her for a log in mud and passed. Aife found it terribly hard not to laugh, but kept control of herself.

The night wore on as Murdock continued hunting under Zephiel's orders with a squadron of wyverns that were part of the patrol. Zephiel went back home and Aife picked herself up again.

"Wait 'til Mirriam sees this," she said to herself. She stuck to the shadow of trees to avoid the wyverns. It was too easy.

"How did she escape this time? I lost sight of her once, and then I lost her permanently!" said Zephiel in frustration the next morning. He sat on his bed with his head in his hands. Murdock stood at the door again, trying not to smile. "I saw that, Murdock. What do you find so funny?"

"Your Highness, she has you wrapped around her finger, in a way. It is…amusing to see you this way over one girl when there are so many others you can have. You've been avoiding social gatherings. Your people have been hearing some queer things about you. Rumors have started that you are searching for a girl, and for all we know, there will be a gathering of women pretending to be that girl at your doorstep any day now."

"Then I'll know none of those are her," said Zephiel. "She would never want to show herself to me. Unless she knows that I know that. Then she'd want to trick me into thinking I do know her." He sighed. "This is so complicated. But I cannot go on ignoring the others."

"Your Highness, what if the girl is a peasant?" asked Murdock with a straight face this time. "Would you take her anyway?"

Zephiel looked to him with a puzzled face. "I have you here, don't I?'

"And one more thing, Your Highness. What if she is simply playing you?"

Zephiel frowned. "I am king of the most powerful country on this continent. Why would that be so?"

"Peasant girls do not think the way noble girls do, Your Highness. They don't only think of power and riches."

"Then I will need to learn how peasants think," said Zephiel. "And I can do that at the flooded villages."

* * *

" _What do you mean_ Narshen's joined the military?" Aife asked Mirriam, stunned. Aife sat across from the barmaid on a stool.

"That's what it says in this letter," Mirriam replied, throwing her a rolled-up parchment. Then she got back to sweeping the floor behind the counter.

"My deer sister, Ifee," Aife read aloud by light of the afternoon sun coming into the empty bar from a rectangular window. "Oh look, he spelled dear wrong. And my name. At least _he_ could pronounce it."

"Well, I wouldn't know very much about spelling myself," said Mirriam. "And what do you mean 'at least _he_ could pronounce it'?"

"The way you say it, you call me Ivy. It's pronounced I- _fff_ ee! Ah! All these months, and you didn't know that?"

"You never corrected me."

"Of course. I didn't correct you the hundred times I did the first two days."

"What?" Mirriam asked, confused.

"Forget it," said Aife, rolling her eyes.

"Okay…Ai _f_ e, what do you plan to do with your life? You're already 17!"

"I don't know. Maybe I can be a spy."

"How do you plan to do that?"

"I'll get King Zephiel to appoint me one!"

"And how will you do that?"

"Well, when he finally catches me, he'll ask what I want and I'll tell him!"

"Catches you? Why would he want to catch you?"

"Because I keep meeting him at the outer gate at night and…say…playing games of wits and words with him?"

"Aife!"

" _Wha-at?_ "

"Have you struck your fancy in _him_?"

"Ha ha ha, Mirriam, you're so funny," said Aife humorlessly. "Anyways, let's see this letter…

 _My deer sister,_

 _I am pleased to notifi you that His Highness is coming to visit our Castle Tepal. Please come home and grace_ him _with_ your _presence or he shall turn suspicious eyes on us when learns the Lady of Tepal does not wish to welcome and attend to him._

 _Your loving brother,_

 _Narshen_

"I'm surprised he spelled his own name right," Aife said. "Let's see. What's my answer? No. But I'll be speaking with King Zephiel about this."

"Aife, you're playing a dangerous game, playing with the king this way," said Mirriam.

"Oh hush! I won't get in trouble. Besides, it's fun messing with his head."

" _Aife._ "

Aife sighed. "Fine."

"And you are going home."

"No!"

"Aife!"

"Fine! … I was planning on going back to help the flood victims anyway…"

* * *

 **A/N: Oh gawd, Narshen's letter is embarrassing. Did I write that? No wonder I couldn't take him seriously... Ahem.**

 **So now we've got Narshen. He is the Dragon General that Zephiel puts in command of taking over Lycia in FE6.**

 **"I am strong. I am wise. I am lovely. And most importantly, I am right! ...Me! No one else! "** **—Narcian  
**

 **Claaaaassic. Honestly, his flamboyant character served too funny to ignore.**

 **Review to let me know which stories to upload faster! ;) Since I am still in a re-upload phase. :D Ciao!**


	3. Voyage

**A/N: Back again! Whooooo...man that word count rate slowed a lot second week into NaNoWriMo. -_-; Got stuck outlining the ending of the second story, and then a most displeasing election. It only means I'm coming back full force though! Honestly, after the last 48 hours, the hard work of writing is an escape!**

* * *

"Hey, Sherry!" said Aife, walking into the inn just across from the bar.

"Hey, Ivy!" Sherry replied, one of the only brunettes of the village.

"I- _fee_! It's I- _fee_!"

"Ai _f_ e! Got it!" the young innkeeper said with a nod. (She never did.)

"You know where my horse went?"

"In the stables. Where else?"

"I don't know."

"Where are you going?"

"Home. I'll come back in a month or two."

"Home? Where's that? I thought you lived in the bar with Mirriam."

"Nah. I've got a home. And one snotty brother. You wouldn't believe what a coward he is!"

"Did you hear? The king took a couple of his troops to the west, where the flood occurred. They're gonna help out the folks out there."

"….What?" … _He's going to Tepal? Whoops._ "Thanks…for the news. Maybe I'll run into the king there."

"You live at the flooded villages?"

"Close enough."

Aife disappeared out the door and brought out her tan steed, Lore. The steed shook its flax mane and snorted at her, refusing to come to her beckoning until she showed the carrots. She saddled Lore and swung onto him the pack of her supplies. Then she swung herself onto Lore and ushered him outside, into the late evening air.

Before setting the horse out of the village in a gallop, however, she stopped at the bar.

"I'm going, Mirriam!" she hollered into the bar.

"Awwwwwwww!" came a chorus of men's voices as they flocked to the door.

"Whoa," Aife said as Lore nervously edged away from the men.

"Leaving us, Aife? Why?" asked the tanner's apprentice, a handsome young blond.

Aife rolled her eyes and set out of the village in a gallop, and only when she was far enough from the village that she could no longer hear the activity in it did she stop.

"Lonely," Aife murmured. The horse nickered at her. "All right. It's just the two of us out here. Maybe I should go back and ask for a guard or something. Any mercenaries for hire?" She sighed. "Tanner's apprentice would volunteer free of charge, so never mind. This isn't fun. Traveling without anyone else that you can talk to."

* * *

Zephiel surveyed his surroundings from atop his wyvern. Things did not look good for these people. They would have to wait for the floodwaters to recede, and only then can the damage start to be undone. But until then, he and his wyvern riders could do nothing in terms of rebuilding.

But there is one thing he could do for them.

He watched them, all packed together in the woods, sharing whatever food they have, huddling around fires, singing to cheer others up. Why were they in the woods? They hadn't sufficient shelter, and the rain season had only _started_. Why was the lord of the land doing nothing about this?

He landed his wyvern down to the clusters of people in the woodlands that were not sunk with water.

"My people," he said when they looked to the king and his riders, "what do you do out here in the woodlands with hardly any shelter from the rains?"

Murmurs erupted before one of the men, the village magistrate, perhaps, spoke, "The Lord Narshen has done nothing to aid us. He only scrounges from us what little we have, and makes us grow food enough to feed our own family, and whatever left goes to his feasts."

"This is…" Zephiel frowned. "Unacceptable. Rick, I want you to fly ahead to Narshen and make certain he prepares rooms for these people. Murdock, you take your squad of riders and aid the people of the other village to Tepal Castle. The rest of you, stay with me."

A chorus of 'Understood, Your Highness' ensued. Murdock took his troops southwards over the forest terrain and disappeared quickly.

"Your Highness," the village magistrate said in awe, "we thank you, from the bottom of our hearts!"

"It is my duty to serve my people," replied Zephiel. "Now then, show me the elderly, sickly and the younger children."

The people organized themselves.

"Good. Now then, you three," Zephiel said, pointing out three of his wyvern riders, "take the elderly and the sick gentleman." Turning to two more of the wyvern riders, "You two will take the four smaller children. The babe stays with its mother."

The wyvern riders snapped to it. Pretty soon, only older children and adults were remaining.

"The rest of you must walk on foot," said Zephiel in apology. "The last ten wyvern riders will act as scouts and guards against bandits."

"We are fine with that! Thank you!" the village magistrate said.

"All right then," said Zephiel, looking over the rest of the men and women, who returned grateful looks to him. "Let us proceed."

* * *

Aife stopped at a village to refresh her bread (she left them carelessly out in the rain one night) some six days later. Thanking the baker, she then visited the vendor.

"Two vulneraries, please," she requested to the lady who tended the vendor.

"Please make that four," came a man's voice from behind Aife. Aife turned to see a man with blond hair and brown eyes. He wore a green vest under a red cloak that wrapped around his head in a way unseen in Bern. But it was common wear for the poorer folk of Lycia. The bare arms of his were fairly muscular—threatening. He wore a mischievous smile as he winked at Aife. "It's on me, okay?"

Following him was a swordsman who looked to be Sacaen in his blue tribal clothes. His green hair was tied back, and his emerald eyes were sharp. His build was not quite as much as his friend's, but Aife did not mark him out of threat. Agility in lighter people, and this one was Sacaen. For a moment, he stared at Aife.

"It's rude to stare," Aife said to him warningly. Her daggers were hidden in sheaths at her waist, underneath her green tunic. Her baggy green pants also had many pockets where all sorts of pocketknives, picks, and gold coins wrapped in cloth so they didn't clink in each pocket while her wallet carried bronze, copper, and silver coins.

"Oh, I-I'm sorry," replied the swordsman. "R-Really! I mean—"

Aife's lifted brow stopped him in his tracks.

"Goddess!" she heard him whisper to himself as he started to stare again. "She looks good even doing that…"

Aife narrowed her eyes.

"Um…" said Guy, snapping out.

"'Um?' That's all you have to say now?" asked the blond, looking from the swordsman to Aife with a grin. "You need lessons on how to make a move, Guy. A lot of them."

The woman who tended the vendor also watched on with amusement, putting four vulneraries on the table. The blond swept them off the table and handed two to the girl.

"What say we have some drinks on me too?" asked the blond.

"I'd like that!" said Guy.

"Not you, moron," said Matthew, turning to give him a glare. Turning back to Aife, he said, "Please excuse the moron. He can't help it. By the way, I'm Matthew."

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm standing right here!" said Guy, taking out a sword.

"I'd _love_ to hang out with you boys," said Aife with a placid smile, "but I have things to do. People to save from a recent flood, houses to rebuild, that kinda thing." She shrugged off the arm Matthew had placed around her and made her way to the door, rolling her eyes after passing Guy.

"Ah! Wait!" said Matthew, hurrying to follow her out the door.

"Sir! Your payment!" came the voice of the vendor's attendant.

Matthew apparently didn't hear as he followed Aife. Guy suddenly saw a broom at his face.

"You'll pay for your friend, right?" asked the attendant.

"Damn," replied Guy.

Outside, Matthew was still pestering Aife as he followed her down the dirt road towards where Lore was tied to a tree securely. It was an overcast evening, not helping Aife's mood in any way.

"Hey, you can hang back for an hour or two, you know," Matthew said. "The king and a couple of his friends are already at the villages near Tepal Castle and, last I checked, were having the villagers evacuated into Tepal Castle."

Aife stopped. "Evacuated into Tepal Castle, huh?" _That means I'll have to fix it up a bit when I get back. And thanks to this little morsel of information, I'll know more of what to expect._

"Oh? That catches your attention? I can say more on it, but at a price," Matthew said, cocking his head mischievously.

"Matthew! Because of _you_ , I had to empty _my_ wallet!" said Guy, coming up on the other side of Aife.

"That's really too bad, isn't it? Let's just say that was one of the favors you owe me," replied Matthew.

Aife sighed inwardly. _How do you get rid of two lousy men? And what kind of name is Guy, anyway? Oh well. He's Sacaen. Strange names go along with strange people perfectly well._

Aife took out her wallet and handed Matthew a couple of silver coins. "Talk. And for you, sir…" She emptied the rest of her wallet in Guy's hands, which was enough for two and a half vulneraries. "I don't take charity. It seems you're actually the nice one here."

Matthew cocked a brow, curious. "You know, you don't exactly have any money left now. And seeing how you've been traveling, I'm sure you'll need to stock up on food and you'd want a night's rest in an inn, right?"

Aife was about to say she still had the gold coins in her pocket, but stopped herself in time.

"Or is it that you keep the rest of your money someplace else?" asked Matthew, picking the words right off her mind.

* * *

"Three rooms, please," said Matthew, placing coins worth 150 gold in total on the innkeeper's desk. Aife walked into the inn with her hands covering her face, her beautiful gold hair dripping, her tunic muddy and completely soaked. Guy followed her closely.

"Ma'am, you look like you've been through quite a storm," said the innkeeper with a smile, his bushy mustache twitching disturbingly.

"Yeah," replied Aife, glaring daggers into Matthew and Guy. "Them."

The memory of the assault she'd placed on Matthew… Boy had she underestimated him. He had her pinned down in a second, a dagger at her throat, and Guy came along with a pail of water from nowhere and splashed all its freezing cold contents on her head. She felt humiliated. But she learned a couple of things.

"So you're a trained assassin?" she had asked as Matthew helped pick her limp body up. She immediately peeled herself off him to save herself further embarrassment.

"Yep," he said. "You don't know what I've been through, and you wouldn't believe it if I told you."

The memory burned her up completely, and she was shaking with anger as she climbed up the stairway behind Matthew and in front of Guy.

And one more thing in that memory. She saw on Matthew's belt a clasp on the side, a Lycian clasp. Lycian spies in Bern? That can't be permitted. But he was a trained assassin and she had a ways to go before she could challenge him.

"Here's your room," said Matthew, opening it up with the key.

"I'll bet you wouldn't need that key to open up the door," Aife murmured.

"Of course not," Matthew answered cheerfully.

Aife passed him into the room and felt for her dagger. Matthew must have turned the sheath while she passed. Aife turned it back into the correct position and faced Matthew again, a dagger at _his_ throat this time. He looked down at it, then at her, then grinned.

"Don't worry. I won't sneak in at night," he promised. Guy behind him glared.

Aife narrowed her eyes. "You better not. Or you just might end up having a couple wyvern riders on your tail."

Matthew shook his head. "That just won't do, would it?"

"Of course not. Wouldn't want to let them see your belt," Aife answered as she closed the door at his shocked face.

* * *

"You don't think she'll tell, will she?" asked Guy, standing at the window sill as Matthew lay himself on the bed of his room, his feet dangling over the side as he twirled a dagger.

"Tell? No. She won't," replied Matthew. With a cocky grin, he added, "But hell, she's a feisty one. I like her."

"She's…gorgeous…" said Guy, hanging his head. "I don't stand a chance."

"Hey, she almost had me too!" said Matthew with a laugh. "She got closer to killing me than you ever got to _striking_ me!"

"Oh shut up."

* * *

Aife got up swift next dawn, hoping to miss meeting the men she'd met the last night. But it didn't work out that way. They were checking out just as she came downstairs.

"Oh shit," Aife murmured to herself as Matthew met her glance.

"And she's right on time," Matthew nodded to Guy. Guy sighed and handed Matthew ten silver coins. Matthew turned back to Aife with a smile and asked, "Hey, what happened back there? Not the friendliest of women, are you?" Aife had to admit it was a charming smile, but she had other things in mind than to mess with Matthew.

"Here's the key," Aife said, tossing it to the innkeeper. She then ignored Matthew and Guy and walked past them out the door.

"Hey, wait up!" said Matthew, following her out.

Aife ignored him and went to the stables in a rush, making Matthew have to jog to keep up.

"Aw, come on, are you mad at me?" asked Matthew, putting a hand on her shoulder and turning her to face him. Aife sighed as she glared at him. "Don't be mad. You don't look great with that look on your face." He pressed the corners of her lips upward. "That looks better."

Aife chuckled and shook her head. "Listen, Matthew, I have an urgent call from the flooded villages and I really need to go," she said as she turned around and opened the latch that kept Lore inside one of the stalls. Lore snorted at her, then glared at Matthew.

"Okay!" said Matthew. "I guess I'll just come along as well."

" _What?!_ " said Aife, spinning back to him in a flash. "No, really, I'll—I'll be fine."

"Oh don't worry. I'm really not going out of my way doing this," said Matthew with a shrug. "I'm headed towards Tepal Castle anyway."

Aife lifted a brow. In a whisper, she said, "You mean Lycia, correct?"

Matthew shrugged again. "Same difference."

Guy came in through the door, warily eyeing the horses, then looked at Matthew and Aife suspiciously. "What's going on here?" he asked.

"Oh, I just decided to tag along with her for a while," said Matthew casually.

"What! We were going north to Sacae!"

"No, _you_ were going north to Sacae."

Guy growled.

"Hey, you knew we'd have to split up some time," said Matthew, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I know you'll miss me," he said knowingly as he nodded, "but you'll just have to deal with it."

"Heartbreaking," said Guy, though he didn't really look as if he cared.

"I know she is," said Matthew with a nod. "Think of all the fun we'll have without you."

Aife shook her head and smiled. She couldn't help it. It was tough staying mad at Matthew. She turned back to Lore and led him out towards Matthew and Guy. Guy glared at Matthew, but at the sight of the horse, he backed away a bit.

"I'm not too good with horses," he explained, looking at Lore as if he was a beast.

"Lore wouldn't hurt a fly," said Aife, patting the steed caressingly. She caught herself acting too emotionally and turned back to Matthew and Guy.

Guy was whispering to himself again, "Now if only she'd look at me that way…"

Matthew shook his head piteously and said, "Sorry, man, I saw her first."

Aife rolled her eyes and re-saddled Lore, placing the pack of supplies she had back on the steed after checking to make sure everything was in there. There was nothing of emotional importance in there, all survival items. And a rolled up parchment that shouldn't have been there.

She looked back at Matthew and Guy skeptically. Matthew met her glance and smiled, nodding slightly. Guy missed it; he was too busy petting Lore.

"He has a real soft nose," Guy said, smiling.

"You lived in a tribe in Sacae. You can't tell me you didn't have horses," said Matthew, turning away from Aife.

"We did. Many," said Guy. "But I didn't hang around them willingly."

"I see," said Aife. "If you slowpokes would please move out," she said as she mounted Lore, "I'll be on my way."

Matthew looked over to the stall that was next to Lore's. A chestnut mare was munching hay, ignoring the humans, then he looked back at Aife.

"You wouldn't," Aife said, narrowing her eyes.

Matthew grinned. "I would."

"Matthew!" said Guy. "You shameless lout!"

"If you want to come with us," said Matthew, opening up the latch for the other horse, "you'll need one of these."

"I would not go so low," said Guy angrily.

Matthew shrugged. "Fine with me. Honor and shame are left to the knights."

Aife trotted Lore out, hoping not to be anywhere near the inn while Matthew stole a horse. She had Lore speed out of the village, Berke, and was in the open with her hair flapping wildly in the wind in a short moment.

* * *

"Your Highness! So good of you to come! It is an honor!" said Narshen, bowing before the king outside his castle. He wore a snow-white cape over silver wyvern-knight armor, his blond hair shining sleekly as it caught the light of the sun. It was far too glossy to look good. "Captain Rick has been good to forewarn your arrival. I've a feast awaiting you." He spoke nothing of the peasants that were gathered behind the king.

"Have you made preparations to take these people in?" asked Zephiel as he dismounted from his wyvern. It was a chilly morning, and the sun was just rising, the sky half-filled with clouds shades of gray and gold.

"Preparations have been made," said Narshen, the smile on his face dropping as he looked at the peasants without cheer.

"Food has been readied for them, space, clothing, and men-at-arms to help rebuild their villages?"

"Y-Yes," said Narshen, though he only had space readied, as Rick directly mentioned to him.

Zephiel smiled. "Well done, then. You will aid me in rebuilding the villages."

"O-Of course, Your Highness," said Narshen, bowing again. He escorted King Zephiel and Murdock to the feast hall and ordered the feast to begin thinking, _Ah, when sister returns she will fix this up. I've nothing to worry about._

* * *

It was several hours after Aife started to ride west again that Matthew and Guy caught up, each on separate horses. Now all three were riding through a vast, wet field of grass that bowed to the mountains between Bern and Lycia. The sun wrapped itself in a swarm of angry clouds. Thunder rang across the field, making Lore edgy and more eager to suddenly gallop forward. Otherwise, the air was still as stone, and the grass bent low and, in some places, choked with weeds and wildflowers with scents too sweet to adore.

Before Aife could ask what took so long and why Guy came along, Matthew said, "I didn't want the villagers to be suspicious of you; now that wouldn't do at all. So we waited an hour or so. Guy spent that hour wisely bargaining with a farmer for that old mule."

Aife looked to her left to see Guy riding a gray horse that had probably seen many worse days. He certainly looked old.

"And after that hour of waiting on my behalf, I took the horse," finished Matthew.

"You mean stole," said Guy, glaring past Aife to Matthew.

"He came along saying he would protect you from whatever shameless thing I have in mind for you," said Matthew with a chuckle. "He can't even protect himself. But I suppose if we ever have to do fair-in-square battle, he'd fare far better than the both of us. Training to be an assassin, are you, ma'am?"

"We don't even know your name," said Guy.

"Aife," said Aife. "And I am not training to be an assassin."

"Then why all the secrecy? Why don't you open up to us? We can keep our mouths shut," said Matthew.

"Spies aren't paid to keep their mouths shut," Aife replied.

"I won't argue on that point, but what have you to hide that would be worth saying to the Lycian League?"

"Nothing, really," said Aife with a shrug.

"Exactly."

"Well, let's just say you'll find out when we get to Tepal Castle."

"All right. I can work with that, Aife. Do you mind if I give you a nickname? Like Fee? As in, my Fee? Aife, My Fee…"

"No."

"No? Don't be such a bore."

"Leave her alone, Matthew," interrupted Guy.

Matthew smiled. "Oh, okay. Let's see how well _you_ do with her."

"I'm not a prize you can win by wooing," said Aife.

"Oh? Then how _can_ I win you?" asked Matthew.

"I don't know," said Aife. "Frankly, I haven't met anyone worth my time."

"You don't mean that," said Matthew. "You met me. Or have you forgotten already?"

Aife shook her head.

"All right," said Matthew, crossing his arms and riding his horse gripping with his knees. "What do you look for in a man?"

"I don't look for one yet."

"But you're ripe for picking."

"I'll just let it happen. And when it happens, it happens, and that's the end of that."

"Oh? So the longer I stay with you, the more chance I have of 'it' happening?"

"I would advise against it. I mean, for a Lycian spy to be so close to Bern's king, now that's dangerous."

"Someone once told me, 'The closer to danger, the farther from harm'."

"Who might that be?"

"It was a tactician," replied Matthew. "Oh yeah, those were the days."

Aife decided against pursuing what that meant and looked up at the sky. A wyvern knight flew over them. The wyvern swooped down in front the three riders. The knight, a blond person Aife couldn't quite identify as a man or a woman with a scar on the face, spoke in a rough voice, "I know you two!"

"Ah, Dame Vaida!" said Matthew. "Charmed to see you unharmed."

"Quit your blabbering! I've been notified of a theft of a horse, and I have a notion it would be you!" she replied.

Aife looked from one to another. "You two know each other?"

"There's a squad of wyverns out for your head, you fool!" Vaida yelled, ignoring Aife.

"What if it's paid for?" asked Aife, reaching into one of the various pockets of hers. She undid one of the bundles of cloth in her pocket with one hand as she kept an anxious Lore under control with the other. She tossed ten gold coins over to Vaida (Vaida caught them all, too) and started on another pocket.

"Take back your gold!" said Vaida, throwing back the gold coins. Matthew eagerly lunged off the horse and caught four of the gold coins. The others fell to the grass. "Because of what we've been through, I'll let you go this once. But make sure there isn't a next time! And watch for the other wyvern kngihts! Understood?"

"Perfectly, Dame Vaida!" Matthew yelled back with a smile and a salute.

"You pray we don't meet again, boy!" Vaida said as she wheeled her wyvern back into the sky and vanished.

Guy sighed. "That was close."

"Matthew, give back my gold," said Aife as she dismounted and picked off three from the grass.

"Awwwww," said Matthew as he handed them back. "So, what is a Bern woman of nobility doing riding about like a peasant? And learning the art of daggers?"

"Whatever gives you that idea?" asked Aife coolly, though inside, she was panicking.

"Oh, something like this," Matthew said, holding up the cloth Aife had wrapped the gold in. On the corner was a symbol of a cougar crouching on top of a star. "If I'm not mistaken, this would be the emblem of House Tepal."

"Give me that!" said Aife, snatching it from him.

"You're a noblewoman?" asked Guy, stunned. "Forgive us, Milady Aife, for being such insolent—"

"This is exactly why I don't tell anybody about my heritage!" Aife cut him off, snapping the cloth in the wind to rid it of the mud it had. "Listen, you two. Don't ever say milady to my face, ever."

"You said ever twice in one sentence," remarked Matthew, mounting his horse. He said to Guy, "I think she's mad. Really mad."

Aife rolled her eyes. " _Think?_ "

"Let's be going, Aife," Matthew said in a gentlemanly manner. "A storm's brewing and we don't want to get caught by another wyvern rider, Dame Vaida or not."

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks for reading! :D**


	4. The Lycian Spy

**A/N:** **WHEW! NaNoWriMo is almost over! I can't believe it! I'm at 31K at this time. I'm going to have to haul ass to make 50K if I want to do that, but more importantly, it's the second arc of my Ouran fanfic Seven Days that I've been scrambling to finish up. Got so excited when I fleshed it all out, but then Thanksgiving happened and I hadn't written for like 72 hours. (cries inside)**

 **Here's the next chapter of Queen of Hearts. :D So sorry there was such a long spell since the last update. Please read and review, and the next chapter will come on Friday! :D**

 **Ok, let's do this!**

* * *

The clouds had parted that night, revealing a sky filled with sparkling stars. No matter how hard Guy tried, he couldn't start a fire. The wood he had was too moist. He chucked down the sticks and fell back into the grass and sighed.

"The wind is chilly," he said. "Sacae's winds are warm, even at night."

"This isn't Sacae," Matthew said as he sat down beside his friend. Aife tended to the horses, listening. No one spoke for a while, just resting from a long day's riding.

"So, did you beat Karel?" Matthew said finally.

Guy shook his head. "When he saw me, he said I wasn't strong enough yet, and he told me to find him when I knew I was."

Aife decided not to ask as she brushed up Lore. Next came Magneto, the old horse Guy bought.

"What are tribes like, Guy?" she asked suddenly.

Guy was startled. Why would she care? But he told her anyway, "Well, we have the chief, and the men do the hunting and fighting, but women learn to fight too. And…"

"Are there ever women chiefs?"

"Never."

"That's…kind of old-fashioned, isn't it?"

Guy frowned. "It's custom. It's always been that way."

"I heard you live in tent-like homes."

"One of the tribes have poles that lean together like this," Guy demonstrated with a couple of twigs. Aife came closer and knelt beside him, interested. "Then they hang animal skins over it, preferably oiled buffalo hides to keep off the rain, and that's that."

"I see," said Aife, sitting down. Magneto, who was enjoying the way she groomed him neighed sadly. Aife smiled and stood up again, giving him her attention again. "You've seen many years, haven't you? Plowing all day, is that all you can tell us about?" she asked the horse soothingly. He neighed happily this time. She sighed after a while and spoke again to Guy over her shoulder, "You were nomads, always wandering and traveling, right?"

"Yes," said Guy.

"It must be nice not to be pinned down to one place. You could call the entire plains of Sacae your home."

Guy didn't reply.

"Do you miss your family, wandering around like this?" asked Aife.

"No," said Guy too quickly.

Matthew chuckled. "He misses his mom," he said.

"Hey!"

Matthew rolled backwards to avoid a smack in the face with the flat of Guy's blade, laughing. He picked himself up and darted over to Aife.

"Matthew, don't tease him," Aife said with a smile. "So, what about you? You miss family?"

"I don't have anyone to miss," said Matthew with a casual shrug, leaning back on Magneto with his hands behind his head. "You?"

Aife shook her head and sighed. "I only have Narshen, my stupid brother. He can't do anything himself, and comes crying to me, and I have to clean up his messes."

"Ah, so you're Lord Narshen's younger sister?" asked Matthew. Aife nodded.

"He's a complete idiot, a jerk to the peasants!" Aife said, gritting her teeth. Then she sighed. "But at least he _loves_ me with all his heart. It's like he's just a child. I have to take care of him. He's the only family I've ever known." Aife looked down at the ground. "It is said my father died in an accident involving his horse, and my mother went insane and killed herself shortly after having me."

"So…what happened?"

"The maids had manners, and they was peasant-born, so they taught them to me while trying to teach Narshen the best they could. He was already six, and spoiled. It was harder with him because he was lord and could kick out the maids. Though it would have been easier to just get rid of _him_ and pass it off as another accident, they couldn't kill a child who didn't quite know any better. So it's a miracle he survived, really. He's just such a brainless dimwit, sometimes I just want to—" At this point, she dropped the brush and punched the air a couple of times. "—you catch my drift?" she asked as she turned to Matthew. He wasn't there. "Matthew?"

Matthew tapped her on the shoulder and had a finger over his lips. He pointed to Guy, then pretended to cradle a baby. Aife laughed quietly.

"Hey, Matthew, could you teach me how you got me down in a second back in that village?" she asked. "I need to get stronger if I'm going to fend myself off."

"Sure," he said. "What do I get for it?"

Aife sighed in reply.

"How about a kiss?" asked the spy with a grin. Aife glared at him.

"What's that parchment say?" she asked.

"The one I slipped into your pack? Some information on how you can contact me if ever you need me," said Matthew.

"What if I don't?"

"What if you do?"

Aife stuck out her tongue at him, then turned back to Magneto and picked up the brush on the grass. The horse was already asleep. She patted his back and turned back to Matthew.

"I'm surprised you're still standing here this time," she said to him.

He shrugged. Aife looked up at the stars again, walking through the grass and sitting down some ways from Guy. Matthew followed her and sat down beside her, hugging his knees.

"Aren't you cold?" asked Aife.

"Nope."

Aife nodded, looking back at the stars.

"What's it like being a spy? Is it nerve-wracking?" she asked.

"Why do you ask?"

"Well," she said, lying down in the grass. "I was thinking, maybe I could become a spy too. I have a thing for gossip, and I can use my looks to my advantage, I've got a knack for being sneaky. I like it. And nothing's fun without danger."

"Well," said Matthew, looking at her face, "Lycia's worried about Bern invading it. We could always use more spies. And having one who wouldn't be suspicious in Bern would be excellent. But you would have to meet Lord Hector for that to be arranged."

"I'd do anything to stop a war between Lycia and Bern," said Aife definitively. "I mean, Castle Tepal is smack-dab on the border. But I don't think King Zephiel will start a war. He's not like that."

"Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe not now," said Matthew, "but…"

"All right, I'll take the warning."

"Do you really want to be a spy?"

"Hmm? Yeah, that's what I said."

Matthew shook his head. "Don't you have any dreams? Goals? Why spend your life doing this?"

"Well, I like it."

Matthew flopped onto his back beside her. "You are one weird girl."

Aife chuckled. "I've heard that enough times by now."

"What other strange things have you done so far?"

"Oh, I can go on and on about this," Aife said with a grin. "I've bantered the king. That was such fun. And you know what? He couldn't see me, and when he chased after me with Murdock on a wyvern, he still couldn't find me."

"What did you do?"

"Dove into a mud pool. It was at night. King Zephiel just walked right past me."

Matthew whistled as he turned onto his side, resting his head on his left hand. "What else?"

"The first time, I warned him about an assassin plot, then he came around with a search party looking for both the assassin and me. Losers couldn't find me. I dove into a river and hid in shadow that time."

"Plucky, aren't you?"

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"I like you."

"I know that."

"Have you ever been kissed before?"

"Yes."

"By who?"

"On the cheek by my brother."

"That's not what I'm talking about."

"Well, the tanner's apprentice steals them every now and then when I walk out of the bar…"

" _Bar?_ "

"The barmaid of Reme lets me stay in one of the rooms upstairs."

"Interesting. Have you ever kissed anyone intentionally?"

"No."

"Really? At your age and with _that_ body?"

"Is that a problem?"

"No. Just curious. So you really aren't interested in this thing called 'love'?"

"No."

"How would you know? You've never given it a chance."

"It creates problems."

Matthew grinned. "You are one weird girl, all right."

Aife smiled and closed her eyes, almost asleep when she felt fingers tracing her cheek. She opened her eyes to see Matthew leaning over her, his nose almost touching hers. He slowly closed the distance between them, slipping his lips onto hers and pressing them gently. He pulled back to see her reaction, but she didn't move, only blinked sleepily, unable to transfer what just happened into her brain. He grinned again and pressed his lips on hers again in short kisses. It took a while, but she finally responded by raising her head and meeting his lips in a longer, firmer kiss. Matthew pulled back, but Aife took a hold of Matthew's head and pulled it down so she could rest her head in the grass as she started a train of short kisses.

"I want to sleep, Matthew," she whispered softly after a while as Matthew showered her with kisses.

Matthew nodded, pressing his lips onto her forehead. "Sleep tight," he said, slipping his left arm under her head as a pillow, his right hand pulling her face onto his shoulder. He embraced her tightly and the two fell asleep almost instantly.

* * *

The next morning, Guy woke up first. He groaned as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. He stretched as he stood up and…what did he see?

Matthew and Aife lying together a couple of paces south of him. Guy shook his head. How can anyone fall in love in two days? He yawned again, stretched some more, wondering if that relationship would last. They were three days from Tepal Castle, and if they were lucky and the weather was balmy like this morning, they might get there during the second day.

Guy decided he might as well take advantage of Matthew sleeping while he could. He unsheathed his sword slowly, and, quietly as any Sacaen can be, went to Matthew.

"Nice try, Guy," Matthew whispered. Aife beside him stirred and moaned, leaning into Matthew before falling asleep again. Matthew smiled and embraced her tighter than before, awakening her again. She opened her eyes.

"Matthew," she said quietly, dangerously. "Get off of me."

"Actually, you're on me," Matthew said. Guy stood back and smiled. This was going to be funny.

"Matthew, let go of me," said Aife, glaring daggers into the spy's chest.

"No," Matthew replied, pressing her against him.

"MATTHEWLETGOOFMENOWYOU—" and then came a long thread of words that shouldn't be said. Guy was quite impressed by the lady's vocabulary.

Matthew took a deep breath and opened his eyes. "You're going to make me go deaf, you know, and anyone else a mile from here will hear a screaming banshee."

Aife struggled to get out of his grip, but his arms were too strong and he kept a grip on her. Eventually he got tired of fending off her legs from a very sensitive spot and just rolled onto her, pinning her down with his weight.

"Guy! Help me!" Aife said.

"Calm down, Aife," Matthew said matter-of-factly. Aife took a deep breath (or at least as much of a breath she could take being pinned under Matthew) and let it go, closing her eyes. "Now then, you were saying?"

"Get. Off. Of. Me. NOW!"

"Magic words?"

"Wha—?"

"Say: I love you, Matthew darling."

Guy let out a burst of laughter.

"Guy! Help me!" cried Aife.

Guy took his sword and prodded Matthew's side, effectively scaring him to rolling to the other side.

"Great!" huffed Aife with murder in her eyes as she jumped up beside Guy. "Now let's gang up on him!"

"Aw, come on now!" said Matthew, chuckling as he stood up.

"I'm all for it," said Guy as he charged at Matthew with his sword. He made an attempt to slap the assassin with his sword's flat side, but Matthew ducked it and gave him a kick that sent him sprawling four feet away. Aife tackled Matthew from behind and fell onto him.

"So good to meet you here," Matthew said as he twisted himself under her. She rolled off angrily and gave his side a kick. "Ow! Okay, now that hurt!"

Matthew took a hold of one of her legs.

"Pervert!" Aife yelled as she stomped his hand with her other foot. Guy tackled him knees-first into the ground, grabbed his hands and forced them back. Aife put her boot on the back of Matthew's neck and said, "You lose."

"All right," said Matthew. "I lose. Now what?"

Aife and Guy shared a glance, not knowing what to do.

"I have an idea. Swear that I owe you nothing more," said Guy.

"Okay," said Matthew after a moment of hesitation.

Guy and Aife let him go, helping up the assassin.

"Whew," said Matthew. "By the way, my arms were crossed, Guy. You still owe me."

"What!" said Guy, outraged.

Aife took a hold of Matthew's shoulders and started to shake him frantically. "GIVE US A BREAK DAMMIT!" she screamed at him. Matthew ducked out of Aife's grip and held his head, dizzy, but laughing.

* * *

Aife seethed all morning, and the men made a point in not speaking to her. They made good progress, the weather was agreeable as ever, and the horses were in good moods too, obedient and none lagging. After a while, Guy started complaining about getting rather sore and they stopped to rest at a stream, having a lunch of rabbit stew that Guy caught.

Aife stretched in the sun with her eyes closed on a large, flat rock right beside the stream. It was suddenly dark, and she opened her eyes to see Matthew standing in the way of the sun.

"Move," she murmured.

"Nah," said Matthew.

"Guuuuuuyyyyyy!" Aife called.

"He's scouting."

"Oh shit."

"That's right. It's just you and me now."

"I hate you."

"No you don't," Matthew said, finally moving out of the way.

"Ah!" Aife shut her eyes against the sudden light of the sun. Matthew sat beside her and looked out to the horizon, deep in thought suddenly. Aife sat up and looked at him, lips pursed and eyes narrowed in suspicion. He looked different with a serious face on, and calm.

 _He looks_ **good** _._

Aife slapped herself mentally for thinking that.

Matthew turned to face her and smiled again. "Well, it was quite a morning we had there. Are you calmed down now?"

Aife sighed. "Yes."

"That kick on the side hurt," said Matthew. He shook out his right hand. "And that stomp to this hand… You broke some bones, Aife. It still hurts."

"Where?" asked Aife, taking his hand slowly. "I don't see anything."

"Don't you?" asked Matthew, scooting closer. He took his left arm and wrapped it around her neck without touching her and pointed at his right middle finger. "See?"

Aife bent closer to the finger, then shook her head. "Nope."

"Look closer. Deep inside, it's cryin'."

" _What?_ " Aife looked back at Matthew.

Before she could stop him, he pulled her against him with his left arm and gave her a passionate kiss. Aife pushed him back, but he pulled harder until her body was solidly against his. When finally he pulled back, Aife said, "Stop doing that."

Matthew ran his right index finger deliberately down her nose and her lips, then her chin and her neck until she stopped it at her small Adam's apple. "No," he replied, tipping up her chin and kissing it softly, traveling down her neck. Aife was mentally shouting at herself to stop him but let him continue to his heart's content.

Matthew pushed Aife down against the rock gently with his weight, one of his hands holding hers, the other holding her head as he kissed her cheeks, eyes, forehead and lastly, her mouth. Aife gave up trying to resist and put one hand at Matthew's neck and let herself enjoy his touch.

"HEY!" came Guy's voice suddenly. He stood watching them incredulously from where the horses were picketed in the shade of trees. Didn't he see murder in Aife's eyes for Matthew just this morning?

Matthew and Aife sprang apart in a split second upon hearing his voice. Aife fell off the rock onto the grass just as Matthew tipped off the opposite side and fell with a tremendous splash right into the stream.

"Dammit!" came Matthew's voice.

"You two are unbelievable!" said Guy, exasperated.

Aife sat up in the grass, blushing like she had hellfire in her cheeks. "Oh, I feel like spewing."

Guy raised his brows in doubt as Matthew climbed back onto the rock sopping wet and glared at her. "Oh come on," he said to Aife. "You were enjoying it."

Aife slapped her forehead. "I don't know what to do with you," she sighed.

"I can tell you," said Matthew with a grin. "It happens at night, usually, but I'm flexible."

Aife took off one of her boots and chucked it at an unsuspecting Matthew. It smashed his nose, and when he sat up to grab his injured nose, he tipped off the rock and fell into the water again. "Shit," came his voice again, mutated this time because he had his hand plugging his nose. There were tears on his face when he climbed up the rock again. "Man, you hit that sensitive spot on my face."

"My ears are like that," said Guy. "Even the lightest hit on it makes water come to my eyes. I hate that!"

"I'll make note of that," said Aife as she reached for her boot. Matthew snatched it out of her reach. "Give it back, Matthew."

Matthew stood up on the rock and held it over the water.

" _Don't you dare_ ," said Aife. If looks could kill, Matthew would have been several times dead by now, then skinned, then chopped up into such fine pieces so quickly that he possibly could be taken for cremated.

"Oh, I would," said Matthew with a smile. Guy sighed, climbed onto the rock, took out his wallet and offered Matthew several of silver coins. "That'll do," said Matthew.

Matthew handed the boot to Guy, who withdrew his money before Matthew could snatch it from his hand, kicked Matthew in the stomach and made the thief lose his balance and fall into the water a third time.

Guy jumped off the rock and handed the boot to Aife, who smiled and kissed him on the cheek in thanks. The swordsman blushed redder than a tomato (if that was possible). Matthew sighed as he waded around the flat rock (he kept telling himself the rock was cursed now) and got onto the grass of the earth. When he saw Guy blushing with his eyes wide, he leered at him.

Guy cleared his throat and said, "T-There was a clearing in the forests north of here, all flattened out by wyverns. A group of wyvern riders camped some days earlier there."

"Could be the king's group," said Matthew as he joined the two. He took off his red cloak and wrung it of water. "Maybe I'll sunbathe for a while to dry myself off."

"Maybe I'll separate your head from the rest of your body," replied Aife.

"I guess that's a no," Matthew hung his head. "But I'll catch a cold!"

"Then give up the ghost while you're at it," replied Aife again as she set up Lore and swung herself into position for riding.

* * *

Zephiel watched with satisfaction as he watched the peasants he had rescued have a decent meal they could only dream of. Just yesterday, he was eating a feast. Now that he ordered Narshen to feed this day's feasts to the peasants instead…the look of awe in their faces was not new, but it still made him feel pleased.

As he listened in on some conversations of theirs, he picked up knowledge of a woman who was coming to the castle, a Lady Aife. She was a constant buzz among the folk of Tepal. 'Beautiful as the Goddess, though I beg pardon of Saint Elimine,' said one. 'Sweet and kind is our beloved lady. She takes care of us all, and sets her brother right when she is in the castle,' said another. 'She stands for us peasants and has our love,' said yet another person.

Evidently, as a young girl, she and her caretakers would often ride out to the villages and help with anything that needed it, whether it was putting up decorations for the festivals or comforting someone who'd lost a loved one or celebrating the day of someone's birth. When she came of age, she went to court and attended _one_ ball, but returned 'in the huff of the devil's' and hired a small group of pegasi-riding mercenaries chase away any suitors or lords who had come to visit solely for one reason: her. (Eventually, they stopped trying.) Then she disappeared suddenly for a couple of years and message came that she was perfectly fine. Apparently, only one messenger knew where she was, and Narshen was lucky in having met him recently to send for her to come home.

"She would have come anyway, with news of the recent flood going around," said one of the village magistrates.

Zephiel was quite interested in meeting this Lady Aife. Like himself, she cared for the people of her state. And never had he heard anyone compare anything to the beauty of the Saint either (or to have the huff of the devil's). He was one man she could not chase away.

"Does this please you, Your Highness?" asked Narshen at his side as he looked over the rows and clusters of peasants sitting together, eating and laughing. They would have a brighter future than they'd expected. All was not lost. The king himself would help rebuild their villages.

"Yes," said Zephiel with a small smile. "I am happy if my people are happy."

"My sister says much the same things." Narshen thought in the privacy of his own mind, however, _What foolishness has struck His Magesty?_


	5. Impudence

**A/N: (reads the beginning of this chapter) ...there is no way she should be able to get away with this. No way. Just no. Why is she so mean to Typhit!?**

 **In other news, I finally finished this story, bad ending, badder ending, and great ending at the end of 2016. Like, seriously buckled down for the last 48 hours to complete my writing goals so I can start 2017 new and fresh!**

 **And I can't believe it. Growing as a person since when I had first written this story led me to be able to come to an ending I would never have come up with before! And I'm SO VERY EXCITED ABOUT IT.**

 **By the time you get there, I hope you're excited about it too! After this, 3 more chapters to go!**

* * *

Aife whistled as she approached King Zephiel's room before dawn the next day. Behind her, Typhit carried a bucket of ice-cold water. There were two guards posted at his bedroom, snoozing.

Aife quietly grabbed the doorknob after picking the lock, turned it, and opened the door slowly. It creaked slightly, but not enough to rouse the guards. She shook her head, giving Typhit an evil grin. Her maid was shaking from head to toe, spilling a little of the water. Aife reached down and took hold of the bucket before all the contents were splashed onto the floor and walked into the room. The carpet softened her footsteps. She put down the bucket on the floor beside the king's bed. She waved to Typhit, signaling for her to leave. Typhit shook her head vigorously, too fearful to leave.

"Go, Typhit," Aife whispered. "That's an order."

Typhit stood shaking in the hall right outside the door, still shaking her head.

Aife shook her head, smiling. She raised the bucket off the floor, her fingers numb from holding the steel bucket.

"No!" Typhit squeaked.

"I warned him," Aife whispered to her maid. "His fault."

She pulled back on the bucket, then paused.

She warned him. Perhaps…

Aife pulled back the blanket a bit to check if Zephiel was in bed. There was a bolster where she had thought he was. She grinned.

There was only one place he could hide in this room. Unless he moved rooms and posted guards in this room because he expected her to go there and play an unpleasant prank on him. How wonderful. Now she got the chance to outsmart him. He wouldn't hide in the closet. The guards were asleep…

Aife hauled the bucket back outside and handed it to Typhit. Typhit sighed in relief. The room right across would be too close. Aife walked down the hall, followed by her maid, to the next room. Of course, he'd still want to be close enough to hear if there was a commotion…

The room next door. Aife snuck inside, tiptoed over the carpet to the bed, slipped the blanket down to see…Zephiel snoozing merrily. The evilest grin Aife could conjure spread from ear to ear across her face. She ushered Typhit inside. Typhit, not quite understanding what Aife still had in mind, came in to her side and handed her the bucket when she asked for it. Aife swung it back, then forward with a jerk, splashing its contents on the sleeping king.

Zephiel gave a strangled cry and sat forward, a sword unsheathed. "Murdock!" he shouted. Typhit gave a squeal of horror as Aife said, "Rise and shine, sleeping beauty."

Zephiel shuddered and started to chuckle. "How did you know?"

"I checked your bed before dumping out the water. I'm cautious," said Aife with a shrug. Then she started to laugh quietly. "I've wanted to do something like that since forever! Okay, Typhit, you can go now."

Typhit began to sob and collapsed to the floor, so terrified was she that she would be in trouble.

"Hey!" said Aife, kneeling beside her. "What's wrong? Don't worry, nothing will happen to you!"

"Halt!" came Murdock's voice as he came running in with a lamp in one hand and a lance in the other. Behind him were the snoozing guards—who weren't snoozing any longer. "Uh…"

"Put away the lance, Murdock. Just…a false alarm," said Zephiel, shuddering still.

"Now get out of that freezing cold bed and have a warm bath," said Aife. "I warned you, you tried to outsmart me and snooze away, and yet you failed. It's not my fault if you catch a cold. Typhit, you get a bonus this month and the day off. Just one more favor I need to ask of you, please."

Typhit sobbed, forgetting to address her properly, "Haven't we taught you not to sneak? It is beneath you, Aife!"

"Oh hush and get yourself some breakfast, or go back to sleep if you want," said Aife as she pulled up the maid.

"Your Highness?" said Murdock as he backed out of the room.

"Yes?" said Zephiel as he slipped out of bed on the other side from Aife.

"Come on, Typhit, let's leave His Highness to take care of himself, hmm?" asked Aife as she helped the old maid out of the room.

"You are too cruel, Aife! Far too cruel!"

Aife laughed as she passed Murdock and the guards. "My pleasure."

* * *

When Zephiel had finished taking his bath and dressed himself for the chilly air outside, he met with Murdock, heading to breakfast through a vacant hall lit by torches.

"Your Highness, if I may be so bold?" asked Murdock.

"Yes, Murdock."

"She _still_ caught you with your pants down."

Zephiel chuckled slightly. "Maybe we should play along her game?"

"Meaning?"

"What can we do for revenge?"

"Perhaps we should bide our time first and watch."

"She is one daring girl."

"It's impertinence, Your Majesty, to pull off such a trick on you."

"No. She warned me, I used it to my advantage, and she outsmarted me. I think it was fair, actually."

"Insolence! Impudence! What cheek—"

" _Impudence_?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

Zephiel smiled. "Maybe she _is_ …Impudence… The voice…in the beginning, she had a soft-spoken voice…like the stuttering girl in Reme…And now, when she spoke, she spoke with authority, with a strong voice…"

"With a challenging voice."

"Yes, Murdock, that too. She could be…" Zephiel chuckled. "Impudence."

Murdock remained silent, befuddled about what Zephiel was murmuring to himself.

* * *

At the dining hall, Murdock and Zephiel met with Aife. She was eating a peach with her fingers as she whispered to Typhit urgently. The two were standing beside a window that opened to let in a chilly draft. Typhit nodded, and upon seeing the king, disappeared in a flash. Zephiel smiled.

"What were you saying to her?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing really," Aife said, giving a dismissive wave of her hand. She was dressed in a riding wear; a jacket of sorts over a short blue dress that reached her knees, then black boots that hugged her legs probably starting from her thighs. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail that swung from side to side from the slightest movement. "I've awoken you this early so we can ride to the mountain-top and see the sunrise. It is quite something."

"The mountain-top?" asked Zephiel. "Then we will need to take an escort of wyvern riders with us. And do you mean to say we will ride on horses or wyvern?"

"I always rode on a pegasus to the mountain-top when last I was here—when the mercenaries were here. Now I'll have to make do with a horse. You can ride your wyvern, if it pleases you…Your Highness," said Aife, adding 'Your Highness' as an afterthought.

"You can ride with me on my wyvern," said Zephiel. Aife's eyes opened wide.

"What—really?" she asked, sincerely surprised.

Zephiel nodded, standing beside her and giving her hand a kiss. "It would be _my_ pleasure," he said. In his head, he had a plan forming. A devious plan.

Aife opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. "I'm…speechless."

"You needn't say anything," Zephiel said with a smile, still holding her hand. "Your presence itself would be a treat."

Aife wondered if he had forgotten what she had said to him last night as she attended to him and personally brought in his breakfast and Murdock's from the cook.

* * *

Zephiel finished his breakfast in a hurry, though trying not to let it show. When he finished, Aife led him outside, saying, "Come now; hurry!"

Zephiel smiled as he followed her eager steps in his long, patient strides. 'Come now; hurry!' rang in his ears. No one had ever spoken to him that way. He liked it.

When the king, Murdock, and five soldiers finally were out the door, the sound of a wyvern clacking his jaws was the first thing they heard. The wyverns roosted on the roof of the castle, and upon the whistles of the soldiers, they flew down readily. The soldiers rushed saddling the wyverns, slapping long strips of dried meat into the large mouths of the wyverns as Zephiel showed Aife how the saddle worked.

The saddle for a wyvern worked the same way a horse's did, except it had leather straps in loops where the rider's legs were fastened into so they wouldn't fall off if something were to occur.

"Let me aid you into the saddle," Zephiel said as he coaxed the wyvern to lie close to the ground. The wyvern curiously sniffed Aife first. The only person that Zephiel had ever taken on rides was Guinevere. Aife chuckled as she fearlessly put a hand on its snout and rubbed the scales.

"What's its name?" asked Aife as the wyvern brushed its nose on her face.

"Alastrine," replied Zephiel.

"Alastrine? A beautiful name for a beautiful wyvern," said Aife.

"Now then, milady, hold on to me," said Zephiel as he took a hold of Aife's waist gently and lifted her into the saddle.

 _He's pretty strong,_ she thought.

"Now, swing your left leg over to the other side," said Zephiel. Aife obeyed. The king then began working on fastening the leather belts around her legs tightly, forgetting to ask permission of touching her.

"You've done this before?" asked Aife, noticing this.

"Only with my little sister." Zephiel looked up to her. "I assume, since you said you rode pegasi before, that you are unafraid of heights."

"I used to be quite terrified, but I learned to deal with it eventually."

Zephiel nodded as he went back to putting the leggings right as he thought to himself that his plan would work. "There we go. Now the other side." He climbed past Aife to the other side and started on strapping her left leg. "When we go riding, Guinevere wear breeches, and she's taken quite a liking to them. I'm afraid the princess is going to turn out unbecoming for a lady."

"But there's nothing wrong with breeches," said Aife. "In fact, it is far more practical than these skirts. You have to hold up the hem of your gown while going up the stairs, have to be careful not to trip, they get in the way of everything!" She calmed herself down. "But that's why I'm not wearing a gown today."

Zephiel took a seat behind Aife on the saddle and leaned over the side to strap himself in. Aife waited for him patiently, hoping the sun wouldn't rise too early. She regretted not wearing a cloak or cape or any such thing, but warmth returned to her when Zephiel slipped his hands around her waist and grabbed a hold of the reins of the wyvern. Gravity pressed her against Zephiel, and he adapted to her weight against him quickly. It was not long before Zephiel's right hand slipped back from the reins and rested on Aife's thigh. As they flew higher, the other soldiers and Murdock followed suit.

Aife sucked in the exhilaration of flying, the wind whipping at her face, the lift and glide method of the wyvern, the feeling of soaring in the air—it made her terribly giddy.

"My hair does not bother you, does it?" she asked the king.

"I would be pleased if you would untie it," he replied in her ear. "Here, you take hold of the reins and I will do it."

Aife grinned, taking the reins with heartfelt enthusiasm. She experimented with the wyvern, turning her in circles to the left and right, pulling back on the reins lightly so they would ascend, then pulling back on the reins with more zest to find the wyvern would hover in the air. Zephiel's fingers were gentle to her hair, and he slipped the bright blue band off her hair and slipped it into her hand, his hand remaining on it afterwards.

"The reins, Lady Aife?" asked Zephiel. Aife left them to Zephiel, sorely wishing she could have made Alastrine do a couple of flips and twirls in the sky. "Now then, milady, hold on to breakfast."

The world was suddenly upside-down, and then it was spinning. Aife let out a (very unladylike) hoot of delight as she, Alastrine, and Zephiel were twirling through the sky.

"You're enjoying this?" asked Zephiel, astounded.

" _Oh yeah!_ " replied Aife as she turned to look at him out of the corner of her eyes. He smiled at her, then with a fierce look in his eyes, he had shoot up into the cloudless sky and towards the sparkling stars.

"WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" said Aife. "Oh wait…Your Highness, we're not going to dive are—oh no!" They were sailing smoothly parallel to the Earth. She looked back at Zephiel, and he had the kind of grin she had before dumping the freezing cold water on him. She looked back down at the ground. "Oh no, no, no, no-no-no-noooo!"

The wyvern tilted to point her snout at the earth, then dropped.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

Aife's terrified shriek was probably heard all throughout the universe.

* * *

Aife was shouting a horrendous train of profanity at the king as she staggered off the wyvern and fell to her knees on the cold rocks of the mountaintop. The top of the mountain was, strangely, a large flat ledge with gentle slopes that wheeled down around the mountain to the east and west. The eastern slopes led southwards while the western ones curved to the north. Since Castle Tepal was already halfway up one of the mountains, it wasn't far to the top. To the west, more shadows of mountains rose, and cradled between two of them was a lighter patch—grass of Pherae—could be seen reaching for the horizon. To the east stretched Bern as far as eye can see.

But Aife was too busy cussing at the king to take in all that.

She swayed on the rocks, holding her dizzy head as Zephiel dismounted the wyvern and took a seat next to her on the rocks and took a look at the tinting sky in the east. The other wyvern soldiers kept at a distance (the king signaled it. He wanted to be alone with Aife) and flew about in the chilly air thoughtlessly, trying not to fall asleep.

"Ugh!" Aife moaned as she continued swaying terribly. "You son of a bitch tyrannical king!"

Zephiel smiled, pulling her down so she sat with her head on his shoulder and said, "Let us call it payback. Don't play with the king."

The sun peeked over the eastern horizon; stretching its fingers of light to the entire sky and painting it a stunning colors of cream, apricot and crimson. Aife watched them breathlessly and said softly, "It might be a little chilly up here, but I'm used to it. I try to come here every dawn to catch the sunrise. This is the best spot for it. When I see the sun, it leaves me breathless and empty of thought, cleansing away worries and longings. Look out to your kingdom, Your Highness. It is a marvelous thing to behold."

"I should call here a painter to paint me this sunrise."

"It never gets better than the real thing."

"But I cannot take this with me back home."

"Yes you can. In memory and heart."

Zephiel turned to her and asked, "Do we have a truce? No more awakening the king with a pail of freezing cold water?"

"No," replied Aife as she looked up to him with bright eyes again. She peeled herself off his shoulder and said, "Let's do that again!"

"…What?"

"The dive!"

"…I fear I would go deaf if I did so."

Aife grinned, then turned back to the sunrise and sighed. "It's hardly dawn and I've had such fun already!"

"You always awaken this early?"

"No. I knew it would take longer with so many more people coming."

Zephiel nodded, looking at Aife in a trance. She looked so much more beautiful in the light of the sunrise; he couldn't help brushing his fingers across her cheek. She turned back to him, alert.

"Your Highness," she whispered warningly.

"Tell me something, Lady Aife. Are you my Impudence?" he asked suddenly.

Her eyes went wide as she jerked back. "How did you— _your_ Impudence?"

Zephiel smiled. "So I just had to wait for _you_ to come to me. What luck have I!"

Aife got up, this time, without trouble, and took a couple of steps towards the sun over the rocks that gleamed. She shivered slightly.

"How did you guess?" she asked.

Zephiel stood up and took a stand beside her. "It was an accident. Murdock was calling you many things—insolent, impertinent—"

"And fell across impudence," said Aife, her shoulders drooping.

"Your voice and the one of Impudence matched, when you were given authority… You were the stuttering girl in Reme, weren't you?" asked Zephiel. Aife nodded grudgingly. "I thought so. You certainly had me completely fooled. And how did you escape me so many times?"

"A magician never reveals his secrets. And in this case, neither do I." Aife chuckled. "You were looking pretty hard for me. Why?"

"I'd never been defied by anyone before, and when I felt so powerless to stop you …I had to find you, had to find who could humble me the way you did. I had to _see_ you just for the reason that you didn't want me to. And…it was something new. I liked it."

"You liked being run circles around in games of wits and words?" asked Aife, unbelieving. "Well, I had fun. Too bad that won't be happening anymore."

"How come?" asked Zephiel sharply.

"You…want it to keep going?"

Zephiel looked back to Bern. "When we are alone, yes. I like competition every so often. And you don't limit yourself to staying on my good side. I don't suppose you might help me practice keeping my temper?"

Aife grinned. "Tell you the truth, all that time you flirted over the dinner table last night, I was dying to smart mouth you off." She sighed. "But that wouldn't be appropriate for a lady, now would it?"

"You don't like my flirting?"

" _No._ I don't like _any_ flirting."

"Ah, so you were playing me all this time? What about the dragon bones?"

"Hmm? That I'm interested in. I didn't lie to you. Not about anything."

Zephiel turned back to her and turned her face to his and looked her straight in the eyes. "You would make an interesting queen."

Aife's eyes widened, but before she could reply, a dagger whizzed right between their faces. There was a sudden burst of blood. A groan. The clatter of metal.

"Rogues!" hissed Zephiel, wiping his face of blood with his sleeve. "Come on!"

Behind the two fell the corpse of a bandit who managed to sneak close enough to kill either of them. The dagger—( _Matthew!_ Aife thought upon seeing it.)—had punched right into the nose, crushing it into the brain of the brigand, killing him.

Zephiel unsheathed his sword and held it with his left hand while he led Aife to Alastrine. "Murdock!" he shouted. "Brigands!"

Murdock and the five soldiers were alert now; Murdock stationed himself in front of the king while the rest flew above them, awaiting command as a group of twenty bandits climbed up from the western slopes.

"The king of Bern, with only six guards?" asked one of the bandits with a crooked smile.

"And a pretty wench that we'd love to take clean off his hands!" said another.

Aife was wiping herself of blood as much as possible as she glared at the bandits. Zephiel turned away from strapping Aife onto the wyvern and said to them, "Do us all a favor and bite the dust, you fools! Even with your numbers, you cannot best us!"

"We'll see about that when your head's caved in, _Your Majesty_ ," cackled a third brigand.

Aife carefully slipped her hand under the skirt and pulled out the two daggers best for throwing. She took aim and sent one flying into the third brigand.

"Lady Aife!" came Guy's voice. His head suddenly poked up from the slopes of the east. Matthew was already at her side.

"We mercenaries cannot do our work if you sneak away from us like this," Matthew said to her, another dagger out and ready to be shot.

"Matthew! Guy! Am I glad to see your faces!" Aife said. "Reinforcements are needed."

"Murdock," Zephiel whispered. "We cannot win this fight if we stay here, on this flat ledge with nothing for cover, with less troops, the chance of falling off the ledge as well…"

"Your Highness, we on wyverns cannot fall off ledges," Murdock whispered back. Zephiel nodded to Matthew and Guy. Murdock recognized the problem. "You flee down the eastern slope and we will hold them back. I am certain we can make use of the ledges…"

"Then I will bring reinforcements," said Zephiel. "A fine plan."

Murdock nodded, then took to air.

Zephiel turned back to Aife and got onto the wyvern himself. "Lady Aife, please do not stress," he assured her. "No harm will come to you."

Aife frowned. "Matthew, Guy, I want you two to go ahead down the slopes back to Tepal Castle."

Matthew nodded. He and Guy dashed down the eastern slopes as Zephiel began to strap himself in. Three bandits let out a roar as they gave a (suicidal) charge directly at the King of Bern.

"Fools," muttered Zephiel as Murdock commanded, "Attack those three!"

Three of the wyvern soldiers immediately dove, their wyverns snapping forward their heads at the three bandits and pressing them off the ledge and into a bone-snapping fall down the mountain.

"Who's next?" came Murdock's voice.

Zephiel roughly grabbed at the reins of Alastrine and steered her into the sky.

"The king and the wench is getting away, you boneheads!" came a gruff voice as the most powerful of the bandits took out a longbow and trained it at Zephiel, Aife and Alastrine.

"Dive!" Aife said, her heart pounding with fear. Zephiel nodded and had Alastrine plummet down the side of the mountain (past Matthew and Guy too) then cartwheeled as a rain of arrows hissed towards them from atop the ledge. None of the arrows hit Alastrine.

When they were well out of range of arrows, Zephiel slowed Alastrine slightly and said, "Can you find the castle right now?" _Or are we lost?_ he added to himself in thought.

"Southwest," Aife said, breathing hard.

"Are you well?" asked Zephiel as he slackened his grip on the reins.

"I think I'm fine," she replied. "But I'll be sick if Matthew and Guy don't turn up to the castle or if anyone on our side ends up hurt."

"They will do fine," Zephiel said, trying to assure himself more than Aife. "And now that the bandits dared attack us, I will bring more troops and rake the mountains for the rest of their bandit friends."

"That might take months—weeks on wyvern."

"Then I have something to do while we wait for the rain season to end. Anyhow, we need to keep closer check on our borders with Lycia."

Tepal Castle could now be seen, a brilliant white speck against the gray mountainside.

Aife's stomach dropped. _Perfect. Matthew, you idiot! Why couldn't you just forget me and cross the border while you could!_

Zephiel pressed her against him with one arm and said softly in her ear, "I will let nothing happen to you. You are safe with me."

Aife didn't know how to reply. "You were serious about that queen thing?"

"Quite."

"Your Highness, I do not believe I am the best candidate for that. I despise politics, social gatherings with nobles, I am not what you would call a noblewoman. And I am not quite…loved by other courtiers."

"Call me Zephiel."

"…Zephiel…Do kings ever _ask_ one's hand in marriage? How will this benefit your country, marrying me? Besides, I cannot love anyone in the matter of days, Your High—Zephiel."

"You will be a loved queen—"

"By the people, yes, but resented by nobles, most likely."

"Does it truly matter what they think? Aife, I know well as you do that you don't care for what they think. I've heard from the way the peasants speak of you, that you chased away suitors with a band of mercenaries; you shunned them. Not _all_ of the nobles are like…"

"Like my brother?"

"You will do wonderfully. You have manners, a good head on your shoulders, dedicated to your people's happiness—what more is needed in a queen?"

Aife remained silent, unable to counter his words with logical reasons.

Zephiel took her silence as a win and said, "I will stay here for weeks, or more. Can you build love on that?"

The king landed his wyvern in front of the entryway to the castle and, as one of the butlers came running out to greet him, he said, "Bring out all my men-at-arms! We have banditry in the mountains and I will have none of it!"

"And get Narshen out here, ready for battle, while you're at it!" said Aife.

The butler ran back inside with a bow. "Yes, Your Highness and Lady Aife."

"Now then," Aife said, turning to her own straps and starting to undo them on her right leg. "I think you'll need Narshen to prove his worth in the battlefield."

"What do you think of him?" asked Zephiel, undoing the straps on her left leg.

"I think he's over his head and absolutely irritating! …I wish I could be more use in the battlefield myself."

"Even if you were, I wouldn't allow you to take part in it."

Aife stopped in the middle of undoing her right leg and frowned as she turned to face the king. "I have to know I can defend myself. I'm not too bad when it comes to daggers, and I'm sure Matthew can perfect it while he and Guy can teach me to use a sword."

"You won't have need of it."

"While you're here, but after? Wouldn't you yourself be happier knowing I can defend myself?"

"We'll speak of this later," said Zephiel as he released her left leg. Both reached down to undo the last of the three straps on Aife's right leg. When their hands met, they both glanced at each other as Zephiel caressingly sided Aife's hands with one hand and undid the strap with the other himself. "Go now," he said to her as he picked her up by the waist and set her beside the wyvern as if she were as light as Guinevere. Before Aife could turn away, Zephiel reached for her face, held it gently and placed his lips on hers for a moment before she pulled away.

She glared at him. "If you weren't king, I would have slapped you."

Zephiel smiled devilishly, reminding her of Matthew's grin. "But I _am_ king," he said coolly. "One suitor you cannot chase away."

Aife grinned. "We'll see about _that_."

Zephiel cocked a brow. "We will."

"Your Highness," came the butler's voice. The two turned to see him standing at the entryway. "They will be here shortly."

"How much of that did you hear?" asked Zephiel.

"From when you said you could not be chased away, Your Highness, but I can make it so I heard nothing."

"Do so," replied Aife for Zephiel.

"May I bring refreshments, Your Highness and Lady Aife?" asked the butler.

"I've eaten enough at breakfast, thank you," said Zephiel.

"I'm sick to my stomach, thank you," said Aife as she left the king's side. "Be careful, Your Highness, and if you can, watch over my brother, please. Oh! And one more thing! If you happen to pass Guy and Matthew, tell them if either of them are hurt, I will personally crack open their thick skulls with a hammer and make stew out of whatever they have inside their heads. Even if I know one of their heads are empty."

Zephiel laughed.

"Your Highness," came Captain Rick's voice. He landed his wyvern next to the king. A man with black hair and armor, and pensive blue eyes, he seemed to be in his mid-twenties. "It is good to hear you laugh in this early morning. But what brings us to battle?"

"Bandits!" replied Zephiel. "I want to skewer them in battle today, especially if any of our soldiers have come to harm."

The other wyvern riders under Rick's command hovered in the air, awaiting orders. In another moment, Victoria's squad arrived. Victoria was also second in command to Murdock, commanding a squad of expertly trained soldiers. She had long dark blonde hair and a muscular build that impressed her comrades. No soldier questioned her.

None of the soldiers looked sleepy—quite alert. Narshen's wyvern, a great beast with black scales tinged green, dove from the ceiling of the castle, carrying his master gracefully to the rest of the riders.

"Let's go!" said Zephiel, leading the wyvern knights to the mountaintop where the bandits and part of Murdock's squadron fought.

Narshen was last to leave, for his sister held him back.

"Look, Narshen," she said to him with her arms crossed. "His Highness will keep a close eye on you. Don't try showing off. Just stay alive. And if you don't, I am tossing all those medals you won in those tournaments last spring down the well."

"You wouldn't, dear sister!" Narshen said, wide-eyed.

"You're right. The medals will dirty the drinking water and make everyone sick. Now go; you're already left behind."

"This is for you, sister!" Narshen said. "I won't let you down!"

Aife watched her reckless brother catch up with the other wyvern knights and allowed herself a small smile. "I know you won't."

* * *

 **A/N: Oh my god, if I only felt free enough to write crazy antics like this these days. I was clearly having fun writing that dive. Maybe I'll commission someone to draw that for me. XD Ah the world of fandom.**

 **Please read and review! :)**


	6. Games

**A/N: All right! Another chapter! My master's program was supposed to start today, but the bridge leading to the location for the writer's convention was closed and I was forced to find a hotel and camp out for the night in hopes the winds won't close them down tomorrow. Seriously, it felt like I was in a video game, thinking, "Holy crap, am I supposed to meet new party members on this side of the river? Do I first have to level up? Have I not accumulated enough experience points to get to the other side?"**

 **Well, I'll just level up by posting some chapters, how about it? ;) It's like the gods saw fit to stop time in my life and shove in this secret day or something. At last, at last, the story moves on! :D**

 **On a more serious note, when I was in high school, I considered myself a rather feminist girl. I thought I knew what it meant to be a strong woman, and I wrote the character Aife with that in mind. When I picked this story back up again in November, 5 years later, I was horrified to discover what I had accepted at that time as a normal, natural, healthy, romantic relationship. I felt betrayed - not by my own misguidance, but that even a girl looking for strong female role models wound up falling into the trap of thinking the following are normal:**

 **1\. Amazing women sticking around to "fix" men who have problems. Whatever amazing woman we are talking about in this situation should feel 100% entitled to find an equally amazing man who doesn't have problems so that she can continue to be an amazing woman who can contribute to humanity at her top performance, _unhindered_ by the task of fixing someone. If she's so amazing, why isn't it immediately apparent that she deserves someone equally amazing? **

**2\. "Never Give Up" - on a relationship. This sense that is repeated to us over and over and over again on the radio through whatever is the hit of the moment - is extremely dangerous. It's better to be in no relationship than be in a bad relationship.**

 **3\. Guys being pushy until the girl gives up and he "gets" the girl - looks good in anime, perfectly acceptable in a movie as long as you play happy-go-lucky music, and is a _huge_ aspect in popular KDrama today. I loved KDrama so much ;_; until I started noticing this phenomenon. However, in real life, this kind of behavior is threatening, obnoxious, controlling, manipulative, an invasion of space and privacy, completely disrespectful.**

 **4\. Women seeing other attractive, intelligent women as rivals. I am not saying this isn't a matter of fact; the fact that guys have this undertone as a constant in life but it is not also brought up and criticized is certainly an interesting gender norm, isn't it?**

 **These aren't anime tropes. (I'll talk about the misguiding anime tropes I re-discovered in this story and other high-school-era fanfiction in the next chapter.) These are re-iterated as much in Western culture as it is in anime and JRPGs, two huge contributors to how I grew up.**

 **The reason I bring this up is because these were issues I re-discovered in my own story when I picked it back up in November. And writing onwards meant I would fight these aspects tooth and nail as I struggle to forge a path for Aife. Or rather - hah! Did you see the damsel-in-distress terminology I automatically reverted to?) - rather, I had to suddenly re-fortify Aife's character so that she herself would fight these things. It was a massive challenge to try to undo the effects.**

 **Thus, I felt like I had betrayed Aife when I realized that I had, in fact, failed in making her strong. I also was gravely concerned with the idea that there was not space enough in this story to follow through with her becoming a strong woman. But then I recognized that I did not even provide her a strong feminine role model from whom she could learn. But there was already a story going on, the love triangle between a her, the spy of one country, and the king of an enemy country - so how was I suddenly going to fit her growth in? I recognized thatthe woman she will become (gods, she's only 17!) is the woman she is forced to become when her burgeoning, sheer force of personality clashes with the confines of a sexist world. She's hardheaded and impulsive because there is no one who can show her how to curb that behavior and still remain strong, to be a woman who can still get her way, without steam-rolling other characters from her position of power as a noblewoman, without submitting to the role of women in Euro-fantasy.**

 **So this is the last _original_ chapter. Let's see if I have figured out how to make Aife grow into a woman who can do things of her own accord - have her own impact - without subconsciously becoming an instrument of other people's expectations.**

 **If you made it through my authorly ramblings, kudos to you!**

* * *

 **~Queen of Hearts~**

 **Chapter 6: Games**

* * *

When Matthew and Guy returned, Matthew had a bloody shred of his cloak as a bandage on his left arm. Guy had scratches and a slash across his chin, and both looked rather tired.

Soon as she saw them walk in through the main entrance of the castle, Aife ran to the two and locked them both in an embrace, one arm around each, as she yelled, "Why you two _dolts_!"

Matthew chuckled, returning a one-armed hug. "Hey, if you do this more often, I'll be your mercenary forever! Free of charge!"

Guy just blushed.

"So," she said in a softer voice, "are you now going to stay here in guise of mercenaries?"

Guy shook his head. "It won't be a disguise for me."

"I'll stick to it, being your unseen shadow," said Matthew with a nod. When Aife tried pulling back, he didn't let go. "I'll stick to _you_ too."

Aife sighed.

"You were worried about me? I'm touched," Matthew said, holding her tightly. Guy slipped out of the hug.

"A beautiful woman called Victoria told us your message," said Guy.

"Thanks for saving us, Matthew," Aife said.

"Hmm? I wasn't trying to save the king," said Matthew with a shrug.

"All right, for saving me. Now can you let me go?"

"No."

"Guy! Help me!"

Guy nodded seriously, taking out a bloodied sword and poking Matthew's side with it. Matthew edged away from the mercenary, pulling Aife along with him. "Stop trying to be her hero, Guy."

"Let go, Matthew, or I'll fire you," said Aife.

"That's too bad. I'm not really employed."

"Then I'll have the castle servants kick you out."

"But you can't stop me from sneaking back in."

"The king's coming," said Guy. Matthew released Aife immediately.

"Where?" said Matthew.

Guy shrugged.

"You lied! Guy! Sacaens never lie! You stain your own reputation!" said Matthew.

Guy shook his head and smiled. "He is coming, but not yet."

"That's right, Guy," Aife sided. "Now then, what did you two go through to get all that?"

"There was a straggler," Matthew shrugged, wincing slightly. "No pain, no game."

"What about you, Guy?"

Matthew started to laugh. "That wasn't from the fight. That was from trippi—"

Guy slapped his hand onto Matthew's mouth.

Aife smiled sweetly. "Oh, don't worry, Guy. No matter what he says, I don't think badly about you, _ever_ … And you look so adorable when you blush!"

Guy started to blush even more while Matthew moved his hand off his mouth and said, "What!?" before letting the hand slap back onto his mouth.

Aife laughed as she said, "I-hi thi-hink I-I'm glad to have met you two."

" _Think?_ " said Matthew, moving Guy's hand off his mouth.

"Now then, let's have a proper healer see to that wound, Matthew," said Aife as she ushered a maid to her. "Natalia, please escort these lovely gentlemen to the priestess."

Matthew had an aghast look upon his face as he whimpered, "Please don't say her name is Serra."

"Hmm? No…" said Aife, clueless. "Why?"

Matthew's face changed into a relieved one as he said, "You don't want to know."

"By the way, before you go, Guy, what would you say is fair payment for your service?" asked Aife.

Guy shrugged. "We can decide that when I set out again."

Aife nodded. "Okay. Go ahead now. Natalia, make certain the priestess is ready for worse injuries and such when the king and his troops return." Looking back to Matthew and Guy, she said, "If you need me, I'll be downstairs. I should have checked on the people of the villages long ago, but I hadn't the chance. I was going to speak with the clerks last night, but I had to do that now, so…"

"We understand," said Guy.

"But what if I _always_ need you?" asked Matthew.

"Natalia, make certain the priestess knows that if Matthew keeps talking like this about me, she can slap him with her shoes," Aife said.

"What!?" said Matthew.

"It will be done," Natalia nodded with a smile.

* * *

When Aife made her way downstairs (she changed first, she didn't want to alarm the peasants), her thoughts darkened as she realized how cold it was. In the main hall downstairs, there were people scattered about lying huddled together for warmth with thin blankets.

 _Narshen could not do better than_ ** _this_** _?_

There was a mewling baby somewhere. The hall was lit dimly by torches. Aife quietly stepped into the hall and looked about the place. It used to be dusty, but at least Narshen had the servants clean the place out.

"Aife?" whispered a woman who was lying against the wall; her mousy hair was smothered against the wall, as if depressed, but her eyes became bright. "Is that you?"

"The one and only," Aife replied.

The woman, Rasta, was one of Aife's closest friends from the villages. She sat up and patted the arm of the man next to her, her brother Jonathan. He roused easily, and when he saw Aife, he gave a shout of joy and stood up, giving her a bone-crushing hug.

"We missed you, girl!" Jonathan said.

"I…can…see…that," Aife said, trying to breathe.

"Don't kill her, Jon!" Rasta said as she too joined in the hug. Letting go, she shouted for all to hear, "Everybody! Aife came back! Aife came home!"

"Aife! Aife! You're home!" said a little girl as she ran down the hall and, when Jon let Aife go, she hugged Aife's legs (she was only six). "Yay!"

"See! I told you she'd come back!" said one of the village magistrates as more and more peasants gathered around Aife to hug her or shake her hand.

"Of course!" Aife replied. "I would not leave you to Narshen's mercy when such a terrible crisis has occurred. I don't let my gigantic family suffer more than they have to. I'm going to help rebuild your villages…" She was beaming when she saw all the villagers smiling at her hopefully, happily. "I wish so much to have come to see you yesterday, but—"

"You needn't explain," said one of the housewives. "We trust you. We know it must have been urgent."

"Did you greet the king?" asked the little girl still hugging Aife's legs.

"Yes, Marita," Aife said.

"Does he like you?"

"Very. He was flirting all dinner long; it was so boring! But don't tell him that."

Some of the villagers chuckled. "Let's sit down," said Marita's father. "Then we can talk. Jon, go call all the people who are sleeping in the rooms."

 _Furniture storage, armor storage, and other miscellaneous things are the only use for the basement. We didn't have enough room for them all?_ wondered Aife.

"Did you have butterflies in your stomach when he kissed your hand?" asked Marina, Marita's twin sister.

"Hmm?"

Marita was already on the next question. "Did he kiss you? I mean, really, really kiss you? Like here?" Marita pointed to her mouth. "Like Mama and Papa do when they think Mary and I are not looking?"

Aife laughed along with many of the peasants at the cost of the girl's parents.

"Well?" asked Rasta, equally eager to find out. "Did he?"

"Well, he—"

"He did, didn't he?" asked Marina.

Aife shrugged. "It's not a big deal."

Rasta, Marina and Marita gasped deeply.

"It's the _king_!" said Marina. " _Not a big deal?!_ "

"And he's so big and strong!" said Marita.

"And handsome!" added Rasta. "And so kind to care for us poor villagers!"

Aife shook her head. "I don't know… He might be rich and powerful, but I'm not interested in that."

Rasta mimicked her, " _He might be rich and powerful, but I'm not interested in that._ Forget you! Can't you think of all the good you can do with that power?"

"Not this again," Aife sighed. "The only thing I search for in a man is true love, not power and how filthy rich he is."

"There was another man with sandy hair who came down here and asked about you," said Marita. "He looked good too! And strong! Did you see his muscles, Mary?"

Marina replied, "Of course I did, Rita! But he didn't like Baby Bickro! He said he reminded him too much of a 'demonic priestess'."

"Bickro?" asked Aife.

"The new baby! Come see!" said Marita.

"She doesn't need to move," said the housewife from earlier. "Here is Bickro."

Aife was passed a sleeping baby. The baby must have been the one bawling only moments before; his cheeks were still slightly wet. "Aw! He is so adorable! Awwww…" Aife touched the baby's nose, still 'Awwwww'ing the baby. "He's so cute!"

"Where did you go?" asked Rasta. "All of a sudden, you just disappear! Where were you this time?"

"I was at Reme," Aife said, cradling the baby lovingly. "I didn't want to have to worry about dancing and being lady-like, but I did want to see the crowning ceremony."

A horn blew, making the castle aware that King Zephiel and his troops had returned.

Aife's shoulders drooped. "Ah, I better go greet him."

"Go," said the village magistrate, having everyone else stand up and clear the way for her. Aife handed the magistrate the baby and smiled to the villagers before dashing for the stairway.

* * *

"How was battle? Are you hurt?" asked Aife as the king dismounted his wyvern.

Zephiel looked a little pale, but color returned to him when he saw Aife. "It was…" He took a stand beside her and closed his eyes. "I am fine," he said.

Aife waited, but Zephiel didn't go on. "Did anyone get hurt terribly?" she asked.

"Two men died," Zephiel said in a soft voice.

Aife stood silently, looking for Narshen. He was unscathed, but tired as he approached her.

"I'm alive," Narshen said with a smile, almost breathless, when he stood before her.

"Good!" said Aife. "Now then…" Aife stepped away and ordered a maid to bring the priestess to the wyvern riders so she would tend to them. Narshen excused himself, saying he wanted to set up special treat for the wyvern riders before leaving for a massive cleanout of the mountains.

Rick, Victoria and Murdock (who had his arm in a temporary sling) came to the king to speak over the battle and serious matters, which Aife excused herself out of. She went to Narshen to convince him not to prepare a large treat. They would run low on food with the peasants living with them and unable to work the fields (at which Narshen grumbled how useless they were) and promised him next year, if there was no terrible flooding or such crisis, they would have a feast, just the two of them, in celebrating the goddess's birthday. Eventually, Narshen gave in, but was happy again when his sister pecked his cheek and flattered him about what his skills must be to come out of battle unscathed. She then personally thanked each and every one of Zephiel's wyvern knights and made acquaintances with Captain Rick and Captain Victoria.

"Captain Victoria," Aife said with a nod.

Victoria nodded back with a grin. "That's me!"

"Captain Rick," Aife noted. "It is my pleasure to meet you both."

"Ah, forget formalities!" said Victoria with a dismissive wave of her hand. "If you'll excuse me, I have to check on my wyvern and the chipmunks."

Aife gave Rick a questioning glance as Victoria hurried away outside.

"Eh," Rick shrugged. "She's obsessed with those stupid rodents."

Victoria heard and was standing beside Rick in a flash. "The chipmunks are not stupid! They're smarter than you!" Victoria said, tapping Rick's head. She turned to Aife. "Hear that sound? That means his head is hollow. Come with me and I'll show you the chipmunks."

Aife shrugged and followed her outside.

"Erk! Kratos!" Victoria called at the stairway. Upon the call, two chipmunks scurried to the stairway to meet Victoria. "I swear these are the smartest chipmunks in the world!"

The chipmunks squeaked in what Aife thought was agreement.

"How long have they been with you?" asked Aife, reaching down to pick one up. It daringly climbed onto her outstretched hand and started to sniff it. "They're so adorable!"

"That one's Kratos, the squeakier one. He always has a lot to say if he's not pressured with time or threatened."

Aife smiled. "They talk?"

Victoria shrugged. "They act like they talk to each other."

There was a bone-rattling roar. A shadow passed over them. Aife looked up to see a wyvern, one with mauve scales that were salmon-tipped. It dove towards Victoria and Aife.

"Down, boy!" Victoria yelled at him. The wyvern swept down to them, just as the chipmunks scurried to hide. Erk huddled behind Victoria, climbed up to her belt and clung. Kratos stood defiantly where he was, undaunted. "Kratos wags his tail—however small it is—at Sain, my stupid wyvern. Sain's always after the chipmunks, and the chipmunks are always ready to give _him_ a good butt kicking. It gets very annoying when we're in battle and Sain sees the chipmunks."

Aife laughed. "I think I'd better get back inside. There are some things I must tend to."

Victoria nodded. "You do that. Tata!"

* * *

When she returned inside, she met Matthew in one of the halls again. They both leaned on a windowsill as they spoke.

"You should have seen the way Guy was when he spoke to Victoria again," Matthew said with a grin. "It was _hilarious_! He stuttered incredulously, but Victoria just smiled politely and took his compliments and—you won't believe it! She agreed to help Guy in his quest to become the greatest swordsman there was—by sparring with him!"

Aife shook her head. "I hope he doesn't get hurt."

"Are you kidding? Of course he will!"

Aife chuckled.

"Did you really mean it when you said he was cute when he blushed?" he asked.

"Yes," said Aife with a smile. "Oh, and did I hear right? You _don't_ like Baby Bickro?"

"Listen, Aife. If you had to go through what I had to go through, staying in the company of a vain, demonic priestess who didn't understand the meaning of 'Shut up', you would know why." Matthew shuddered. "Just thinking about her gives me the chills…"

"I can see that," said Aife. "Maybe I should find this Serra and invite her, hmm? I'm sure we would have a wonderful time together—"

"Are you _crazy_?!" Matthew exclaimed, horrified. Aife burst out laughing.

"Oh don't worry, Matthew. I don't know where she is, and I don't plan on looking for her, if she really is as bad as you say. I guess I'll just have to trust you on this."

"You won't regret it," Matthew assured her. After a moment of silence, he said in a quieter voice, "Did you enjoy your ride with the king?"

"What? Well, yes, before he decided to dive," said Aife, not catching the meaning. Then it was her turn to shudder. "I don't fancy heights, but I can live with them. Oh, he was so evil doing that to me!"

"And you woke him up with a bucket of ice water?"

"Yes. That was so…awesome!"

Matthew shook his head.

"I heard what he said to you before I shot that dagger," Matthew said. "Will you take the bait?"

Aife felt anger boiling in her again as she turned to face him. "Listen, Matthew. You yourself can't possibly love me if you don't trust me, and if I say yes, what can you do about that?"

Matthew turned away from her and glared at his hands. Aife seethed beside him, held her head in her hands and sighed. After a while, there were footsteps. Aife turned to Matthew to find him missing. She turned the other way to see Typhit, shivering slightly.

"His Highness wants to see you in his room," Typhit squeaked.

Aife chuckled. "He's not going to kill you, Typhit. He won't do anything to you. And if he dares, he'll have to do the same to me. I promise. Satisfied?"

Typhit shook her head and smiled. "Just go, Aife."

Aife sighed, hugged the maid, then left the hall, headed for Zephiel's room.

* * *

Zephiel was sitting atop his bed when Aife opened the door and presented herself before the king of Bern.

"What is it?" she asked.

Zephiel patted a spot on the bed beside him. "I just want to talk to you."

"Why, _Your Highness_ , I would be delighted," Aife teased as she moved towards the bed, but she leaned over the side instead of sitting where Zephiel wanted her to.

"I would too," Zephiel replied with all signs of seriousness. "Come now. Sit beside me."

"Oh, _His Highness_ is too kind," Aife replied. "But I'm keeping a distance."

Zephiel frowned. "Why?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe I want him to work for me, not steal cheap kisses like the tanner's apprentice used to do at Reme."

"What must I do?"

Aife shrugged. "I don't know. But before you start buying jewels and gowns and all that lovely stuff normal noblewomen care for, know that I won't give a darn about them."

Zephiel smiled. "Ah. You are not so easy to read."

"Yes, I'm a nonconformist," agreed Aife. "But speaking of reading, I do like books!" she perked up. "Romance novels aren't my favorite, but I do like something that will give me a laugh: tremendous irony, black humor, sick jokes, whatever! Or adventure novels! I love those! Sometimes I wish I could sail the seas as a pirate!" Aife cleared her throat. "Har, har, har! I be sailin' under the terrible, horrible Jolly Roger, you lily-livered scallywag of a landlubber!" she said in a gruff voice while waving a fist at him.

Zephiel let out such a laugh that the guards posted outside the room exchanged glances upon hearing it.

Aife smiled. "Do you _like_ being insulted?" she asked. "You're always amused at whatever bad I have to say to you."

Zephiel leaned back onto a pillow with his arms behind his head, still laughing a little. "I cannot say I mind it when I know you jest with me," he replied.

Aife sighed. "But it was so much fun making you _mad_." Matthew flashed into her thoughts. _Oooh…._

Zephiel smiled. "That will not work any longer."

"What a shame," Aife said, nodding.

For a moment, they were both silent, enjoying the other's company.

"Do you play your brother this way?" asked Zephiel.

"Hmm? No. He doesn't have any wits to counter my words," said Aife with a bored look. "But that doesn't mean I don't play pranks on him, not by far!"

"Oh? Like what?"

Aife grinned. "You'll see. All in good time, Your Highness. All in good time."

Zephiel gave her a puzzled look before one of the guards posted outside knocked on the door. "Dinner, Your Highness!" he said.

Zephiel slipped off the bed and cleared the distance between him and the door in easy, long strides as Aife went to it. Before her hand could reach the doorknob, he took a hold of it as his other hand slipped to her neck and held her head steady. He breathed deeply, then let his lips sink onto hers again in a gentle, yet deeper, kiss than before. When she did not pull away, he wrapped the hand that had been holding hers around her waist and pressed her against him so more of her touched him—thighs, stomach, chest.

Zephiel backed away his head and looked at Aife for an arrogant response. She had her eyes closed for a moment, and she opened them slowly, almost reluctantly. For the first time, he noticed the hand at his neck and the other on his shoulder. He grinned. If he had tried to kiss her before, she would be alert and resisting. Now she didn't, already in his grip.

"Do you still plan to chase me away?" whispered Zephiel as he ran a hand down one side of her face.

Aife's gaze was locked with his as she replied softly, "I don't quite know."

"Why not?"

Aife shrugged. "Is this love, Your Highness? Or is this lust?"

Zephiel's eyes widened at such a daring remark.

"Tell me, Zephiel," Aife whispered, still staring with her penetrating violet eyes. "If I give it to you—my virginity—would you still _love_ me the next day? Still treat me the same? With respect? Would you let me tease you? Still want to spend time in my company like this just to speak with me? Still want _me_ to be your queen?"

Zephiel blinked, stunned.

"Remember, you are king," said Aife fearlessly. "You can play with me. You can leave me hating you forever; leave me ashamed, lying on the floor one night. You can do that again and again, to other women who really wouldn't mind that."

Zephiel glared at her. "Do you _tempt_ me?"

"I _test_ you," replied Aife. "And what are the chances that can happen without a strange scream leaving this room, or without marks of resistance on me? I hired a mercenary who's become my unseen shadow; he'd break open that door if he heard me. And let me tell you another thing. He wants me too—not my virginity— _me_. Are you the same?"

Zephiel's grip on her became painful as he grew even more furious with every word she spoke. "Where did you come up with this?" he asked in a low growl.

" _I_ didn't. He did. He warned me, and he's tearing apart every moment I spend with you right now. I have to know if he's the better deal."

"You would compare a mercenary to _me_?"

"You speak such folly in anger. Is this your true face?"

Zephiel's grip slackened completely. "And you seem to think he does love you."

"He…had a strange way of saying it, but it was straight from the heart."

Zephiel took back a couple of steps from Aife, looking down at his feet for the first time in his life, dejected. Even when his father had battered him with his foolish pride, he did not feel so miserable. "If you think he loves you more than I, if you think you will be happier with him, then go. I will not stop you. But if you choose to stay with me, I want you to take an oath—on your brother's status—that you are loyal to me, and will forever be, that you will not regret leaving your mercenary lover for me."

Aife felt guilty for prodding him this way, but only a slight tinge. This was for her own good—was this how Matthew felt when he did this to her? No, he felt _worse_. She had slapped him, driven him to tears, but he came back to her anyway, still hoping desperately enough to shadow her and continue to warn her—to bear the fact that the king was still getting closer to her, but she didn't stop him. She sighed.

"I still don't know what to do," Aife said. "I might imprison myself—and this entire deal you give me is on what I think now, on what I do not know. What happens if I were to choose you and be wrong? I cannot leave you, having taken an oath on my brother's status."

"If I become unfaithful to you, you may do the same to me," replied Zephiel, hoping he wouldn't regret his words. "You can leave me for this mercenary. But you will still take the oath saying your brother will pay for your action if you betray me first."

"Sounds like a good deal, but if I were—him, I'd shoot that plan down to hell. To be a backup, plan B, second choice? Never! And if you truly loved me, you would trust me—not imprison me with an unfair oath."

Aife was tired of the word: Trust. Why was it so difficult to find? Neither one of her lovers had her complete trust. Now that she brought up the matter with Zephiel and admitted that she couldn't decide between him and Matthew, he couldn't completely trust her either, could he?

And he proposed a deal that would allow her to be unfaithful to him if he betrayed her first. That meant he was not entirely sure if he loved her or not.

 _I know what love feels like now._ Matthew's voice rang clearly in her head. _You never know that it's love until you have it, and you never know how much it's worth until you lose it._

So how would Zephiel react if he lost her? Matthew knew he was losing her but came back anyway, to grab a chance if ever one came. Would Zephiel fight for her? Or would he try to shrug it off? _Can_ he shrug it off?

 _I have to play two men against each other to find out if one loves me in the first place and if the other loves me more? This is…ridiculous!_ thought Aife. _But how else do I find out?_

Zephiel raised his head and looked back at her. He broke the silence and said softly, "Is this another one of your games of wits and words?"

Aife stared back at him. If Matthew was in his position, would he be able to tell? Of course he would—he wouldn't even ask. And he wouldn't make deals like this; he would fall to his knees and beg and cry for her. He would let her see his tears and pain. Zephiel was too prideful to do that. If the king did love her, how long could he hold those tears off before he cracks?

 _I have all the reasons_ against _Zephiel, so why do I wonder and hope slightly that he would come through anyway? Do_ I _love him? Do I love them_ both _? Is that possible?_

 _Is this another one of your games of wits and words?_ Zephiel's question came back to her again.

"Perhaps," Aife said. "Is it nerve-racking?"

Zephiel didn't respond.

Aife looked back at the door. How long was it since the guards called the king for dinner? She turned back to the king.

"These games let me see a lot about you," Aife said. "You make deals with me hoping you can win—if you betray me first, I get to do the same. But that doesn't help you, Your Highness. It only shows that you are unsure if you love me or not. Do you think you can lure me with riches and power?" She reached for the doorknob and turned it. "In this case, Your Highness, I don't fancy taking chances. I don't like gambling anyway; I only play games that I know I can win."

She left.

* * *

Zephiel lay on his bed with a pillow on his face. He didn't want to see anything—just think. _Did_ he love Aife? He'd flirted with the ladies before, slept with a couple, but never had he enjoyed it the way chasing Aife had been. But what she did now… He couldn't understand, couldn't figure out… Did he _love_ her?

"Your Highness," came Murdock's voice. "Will you not eat?"

"No," replied Zephiel, the pillow still on his face.

Usually, when a king speaks with such a dull and uninterested voice, a vassal would think he was dismissed. Murdock was not like that. He'd been Zephiel's mentor—his personal bodyguard—for long enough to know the king well.

Murdock closed the door behind him and strode to the king's side and pulled the pillow off his face.

"What happened?" he asked.

Zephiel sighed. "Do I love her, Murdock?"

Murdock was taken aback slightly, completely caught off guard. "Shouldn't _you_ know?"

Zephiel shook his head. "I don't. It infuriates me. She plays games with my mind, but I know her intentions clearly. She wants true love, but she grilled me on it! …She is… _twisting_ me with her words!"

Murdock blinked, unable to figure out what to say, so he stuck with, "What did she say?"

"She asked if I would take her virginity and then leave her. She asks if what I have for her is lust or love. I don't know, Murdock! _I don't know!_ I can't tell _what_ it is!" Zephiel said, sitting up swiftly and burying his face in his hands. "But either way, it makes me feel sick thinking that she _knows_ there is another man who _loves_ her. If this is lust and I don't feel the same for her after… what happens then? Am I just like the rest of them? If this is love, and I only realize this when it's too late… Maybe if I stop now, the pain won't grow as dire as it would be later for the both of us…"

"But then you would regret for the rest of your life if it _is_ love."

Zephiel nodded. "If I take the chance, I am not the one going off the deep end. I don't have as much to lose as her. Would I destroy her, taking the chance?"

Murdock kept himself from shrugging. That didn't seem like an option to keep Zephiel from trying to suffocate himself with the pillow (that's how bad the king seemed).

"Murdock," Zephiel said, raising his head from his hands and resting his chin on his hands. That meant he had an idea. "She said her other lover was a mercenary who becomes her unseen shadow. I believe there are only two mercenaries right now that she has hired. I want you to keep track of them both."

"How does one keep track of an unseen shadow?" Murdock thought aloud to himself. Then he stopped himself from slapping his forehead in the 'DUH!' way.

Zephiel smiled. "By eliminating what you _can_ see. Keep track on Aife too."

* * *

After dinner, Aife was walking through one of the musty, unused hallways. She did so for some minutes, looking about herself alertly. No one around that she could see.

"Matthew," she called in speaking voice. He came at her summoning from behind her, tapping her on the shoulder. She whirled around and sighed in relief. "You enjoy doing that, don't you?"

Matthew shrugged. His usual mischievous smile was missing and his eyes were not laughing or mocking. They were dead cold serious with a small light of hope. "What happened?" he asked. "When he called you to his room."

"We talked," said Aife as she leaned with her back on the wall. It was cold at her back. The dim lighting of the torches made strange shadows on Matthew's face; his eyes were hidden, his face expressionless though his shoulders tensed slightly.

"The guard called the king for dinner, but you delayed in exiting his room for quite a while and he didn't turn up to dinner at all, as far as I know."

 _Should I raise his hopes again?_ Aife wondered.

"When you came out, you did not seem particularly happy either," said Matthew.

Aife shook her head. "Why do you love me?"

Matthew grinned as he leaned against the wall beside her, his arm touching hers. "Well, let's see. You're…kind of like _me_ ," he said. "A troublemaker. You like sneaking, it's so much fun making you mad…just doing the opposite of what you say is fun! And, of course, you're not too bad to look at."

Aife gave Matthew a look of disbelief. " _That's_ what you like me for? Because it's fun making me mad and I look good?" She punched his arm, and none too lightly, but secretly, she was happy to see him back to his old self.

"Ow! All right, more than that, but then you'll feel too good about yourself," said Matthew, rubbing his arm. "You don't want to turn out like your brother, do you?"

Aife glared. He laughed.

"See? Even now I'm having a good time!" said Matthew.

"Oh! You are _such_ an idiot!" Aife said, curling her hands into fists and uncurling them again, but she was smiling. Then she asked wonderingly, "How old are you, anyway?"

"Twenty-five."

Aife's brows soared. "Seriously? You don't act—I mean…"

Matthew looked up at her and grinned. "What did you think I was?"

Aife opened her mouth and closed it a couple of times, shrugged, then said, "Twenty?"

"Am I too naïve for twenty-five? Is that what you think?"

Aife shrugged. "You're too… But then again, Narshen's your age and he acts no better than a 6-year old…"

"And you? Eighteen?"

"Nineteen."

Matthew nodded. "I thought as much."

"I have a hard enough time believing you're a year older than me, but _six_ years!?"

Matthew just grinned back silently. After a long moment, Aife said again, "I still can't believe you're twenty-five."

Matthew shrugged. "That's too bad. Say…"

Aife looked at him suspiciously.

Matthew grinned. "I guess that's a no, right?"

"What is?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe I can get a kiss for saving you?"

"You got a hug."

"Be generous."

Aife shook her head. "Some things never change."

"Do you want me to?"

"No." Aife mentally slapped herself.

Matthew grinned. "Oh? You like me the way I am."

Aife rolled her eyes. "Let's play a game of Truth or Dare, Matthew."

"Hmm," said Matthew. "I can't afford truth. Dare."

"I dare you to…" _Ah, finally, revenge!_ thought Aife as a grin spread across her face. "Dunk your head in wyvern dung."

Matthew chuckled. "This is payback? But let me do my Truth and Dare first."

"Fine. Dare," Aife said, thinking Matthew might ask what had happened with Zephiel.

"Perfect. You'll kiss me right after I dunk my head in dung."

Aife's mouth dropped open. She was speechless. Matthew laughed quietly beside her. She punched his chest a couple of times before he caught her hands in mid-punch.

"Well, Lady Aife, are you up to the challenge?" asked Matthew with an evil. "If you're game, then I am as well."

Aife turned up her nose at him.

"Ah, so you're stubborn?" said Matthew. "Okay. And make the kiss last a while, will you?"

* * *

"There it is," Matthew said, leaning out the second-floor window. Right underneath the window was a cart loaded with wyvern dung. Aife couldn't believe he was serious about the dare.

"Forget it! I'm not doing this!" she said.

"Why not? Chicken?" asked Matthew with a grin, arms crossed. He withdrew himself from the outside and closed the window to stop the terrible stench from entering the hall.

Aife shook her head. "I'm not crazy."

"Well then, there's no point of taking on your dare," said Matthew with a shrug.

"Were you really going to do it?" asked Aife.

"I didn't need to worry about it," said Matthew. "I know you."

Aife faked a yawn and said, "Well, I'm heading off to bed." She turned around, but Matthew turned her back to face him and locked lips with her, holding her against him, and then leaning against a wall. Aife sighed inside, wondering when she would decide between the thief and the king. "Matthew," she whispered, when his lips slid off hers and down to her chin, then underneath. "Stop, please, Matthew…"

Matthew stopped, then raised his head and said softly, "You don't love me."

Aife blinked. Matthew smiled sadly and looked down, where he held her hands, then looked back up. He shook his head. "Heh, who am I to think I could capture the heart of a lady? Who am I to force you with these kisses? Have you noticed, the only kisses we share…they start with me?" He held her face with his hands. "I know that…you wouldn't be happy with me… After all, what have I to offer you? I cannot even guarantee I will see you again when I leave…" Matthew's hands slowly slid down her face and to his sides. "Milady, forgive me…I have been too daring…"

He took a couple of steps away from her, still smiling sadly. Aife watched numbly as he turned and walked away from her.

"You… You're leaving me?" asked Aife.

Matthew stopped, not looking back. "Don't get me wrong Aife. I love you. I always will. But this is not what you want, and _I_ want you to be happy."

Aife frowned, suddenly afraid. She took a step towards him, but he said, "No. No, Aife. That's enough."

Then he turned the corner of the hall, flashing her a final, almost mischievous smile before she was left alone.

* * *

 **A/N: Okay. Holy crap. Aife _was_ pretty strong, even back then. Or maybe stupid. Asking a king "Is this love or lust?" Jesus, she should probably have died. But she didn't :) because Zephiel is curious too. D'awwwww. But yes. **

**A lot of things happened this chapter. 0_0**

 **What do you think? Also, what's your experience with the four misconceptions of romance that I mentioned, especially in the realms of video games, fandoms and anime?**


	7. The King of Bern

**A/N: You shouldn't have had to wait this long for this - but the moment you've all been waiting for!**

 **AquaticSilver, thank you so much for your continued support! And I see now, also a review per chapter instead of just a single review at the end of the first four chapters you read at once. That means a lot, seriously! *_***

 **All right - get ready!**

* * *

"Sister Dear!" Narshen had let himself into Aife's quarters, where she was cursorily flipping the crackling pages of a musty book, her hair wrapped by Typhit's strong hands as the maid ran a brush through her hair. Typhit hesitated to see her lord, but Aife waved a dismissive hand, motioning her to continue.

"Pray tell me you haven't been dabbling with that paltry sum of a man," said Narshen.

Aife's hands stopped flipping pages."What do you speak of, Narshen?" she asked. She was wearing circles into the tip of the page she was holding.

Her brother came to stand at the arm of her chair, locking eyes with the reflection in her dresser.

"Surely not the king," she suggested.

Narshen barked a sordid laugh, as if suddenly taken by a joke as he looked to the door. Then he leaned in and dropped his voice, "No, you trollop! The one with the tattered red cloak."

She opened her mouth to speak, but he went on. "I'm not saying you can't play with him, but does it have to be now?"

Aife glanced at Typhit's scowling reflection.

"How did he even get inside the castle? Who is he?"

"He's a — mercenary. I hired him. For my bodyguard."

"You couldn't simply _call_ for one of our seventy soldiers? The Lord of Tepal's little sister can't be seen in such company!" Narshen had become quite red in the face. "You can't see him anymore."

"What!"

"I am going to send him away," he said. "He's finished his contract, hasn't he?"

"Narshen — "

"Sister, the very _king_ is in attendance." He leaned in and lowered his voice. "And I've a sense he's quite taken with you. How the court would laugh to hear the king pursues a woman who meets with some tramp! And listen, think about it. Think what he can do for my career! The king, right here in Tepal! Oh! I'm so glad that flood just happened."

"Who said I liked him?"

Narshen paused. "Oh."

Aife rose to her out of her seat, arms crossed. "I simply have further business with him. You needn't concern yourself anymore."

"Ah, what a relief it is, Aife. …What business?"

"Haven't you bothered me enough for one day?" She stomped on his foot. "Implicating that I was easy and traipsing around with such a scamp. Get out. Get out, you fop. OUT!"

* * *

Zephiel was standing in the balcony of the royal guest room, relaxing in the cool, late night air, when Murdock murmured in his ear and handed him something. He nodded, took a look at what he held, then turned and walked back into the room Tepal had furnished for him. Between the expansive bed and the gilded dresser, Captains Rick and Victoria stood on each side of a kneeling man bound at his ankles, his arms behind his back. The man wasn't struggling, his head bowed and face obscured by the sandy bangs.

"You," said Zephiel. He kneeled on one knee across from Matthew. "The mercenary she hired to become her shadow?"

Matthew hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

Zephiel smirked, "What are you, mute?"

Matthew looked up to look at the king erectly, proudly, narrowing his eyes.

Zephiel shook his head. "What does she see in you?"

Matthew didn't reply.

"Well, whatever it is, it doesn't matter," Zephiel said, settling into the chair Murdock proffered him.

Murdock brandished his sword.

Zephiel considered this. "In a moment." Then to Matthew, "This was found on your person." He held up the tiny clasp of Lycia. Matthew glanced from the clasp to the sword.

" _No!_ " came Aife's voice as she bolted into the room.

Zephiel sat up. "How did you get past the guards?"

Aife threw herself in front of Matthew, coming face to face with a sword. Murdock's.

"He is a spy, Milady," Murdock spoke, "the penalty is execution!"

"Murdock, put down the sword!" said Zephiel, brows furrowing. When his vassal made no move, he repeated the order. "I don't say things twice, Murdock." He turned his attention to Aife. "Aife…"

Aife looked stricken, shielding Matthew behind her, realizing she had no plan. What was she doing? What would she do? Defending a spy implicated her in the matter. And even if she wanted to protect him, how would that happen?

She wanted to get out of this situation. She wanted to be somewhere far away. Somebody else. She wanted to be somebody else. Never had she so powerfully wished that she were somebody else, that she had never met King Zephiel, that she'd never met Matthew. She wanted to live, and at this moment, she couldn't see how that happened.

 _So I guess I don't love him. Don't love either of them. Does that make sense? Does my throwing myself in front of Matthew mean I love him? If I know it to be a futile exercise, and that it would mean his death or both of our deaths…can it still be possible I can love somebody without throwing away my life for that person? Is that truly what constitutes love? Doesn't that mean abandoning all your responsibilities? Leaving the mess you left behind for someone else to clean up? Or does bearing the mantle of life after everything you love has left you — is not that true strength?_

"Aife," said Zephiel, kindly. "Think all he said to be deceit. Or perhaps not. If he spoke to you of love, I can't fault his taste in your beauty and your spirit. Do not let him take advantage of it."

That was her out. If Aife wanted to escape, wanted to survive, this would be it. To feign ignorance, feign innocence, feign hurt, betrayal, anguish. Everyone would feel it right, to see her turn a teary eye to the man she went above and beyond to defend in a moment of passion. How romantic. How tragic. Young love.

And for the king to step in and "save" her? What a sense of complete victory he would feel, to have met his rival, to eliminate the man so righteously, at the same time holding the woman that he loved in his arms, like a prize. And his soldiers there to witness justice served and a love acknowledged. What tragic, weepy heroine she might play. A legend and beautiful story. The people would love it. They might even make plays, how their king saved the lady from the craven cur spy. None of them knowing that she was playing all along, a farce, a lie.

Matthew behind had been smiling to himself, head bowed into her back. She could feel his breath lighting on the fabric on her back, a warm sensation that raised goosebumps all across her body in a flush of cold. "He is right, you know."

Aife stopped breathing. Stopped thinking.

"Get away from her!" said Captain Victoria, using the butt end of her lance to jab him aside and throw him across the floor. Matthew coughed and hissed, meeting her eyes with a grin.

"I was just about to head out, wasn't I?" he said in between hisses. "Since I realized, I wouldn't get a taste with the king in the way."

Zephiel's blade slapped across the Lycian spy's face, the flat of the blade letting off a smack and glinting in the light. Matthew pitched into the bedside, the bed frame rattling from impact. Aife didn't hear herself cry out.

When did Zephiel's own sword come out? When did he get up?

It seemed like everyone was making plans on her behalf. Since it seemed everybody knew what was right for her, what she should be doing, what others had been doing to her. Even Matthew. So he was pushing her away now. Protecting her. He wasn't what they claimed. She wouldn't believe it for a second.

Matthew gave a short laugh. It hurt to hear it. "So much fire, so much spunk, I liked you," he said to Aife. "Did you really think I wouldn't leave? What were you thinking? What, truly, did you think?"

"I think we've heard enough from you," said Zephiel. "Rick, Victoria," he motioned to his captains to pick up the prisoner, "I don't want to do this on Fibernian carpet."

By the gods, there was nothing she could do — nothing she could do!

"Milord!" said Murdock. "Allow me. You should attend to the lady."

Zephiel started, and looked to Aife. "Very well." He nodded to the captains.

The captains started to move.

"No," she whispered. "No no no no no." She moved to block them again, now her back to the king. Captain Rick stopped moving, but Victoria moved forth just the same.

"Stand aside, Milady," she said.

"He's lying, he's lying, don't do this to him." Aife was begging. She had never begged before.

"Milady," Victoria paused, a contemptuous glint in her eye. "Frankly, it doesn't matter if he was lying. Your role to him has nothing to do with this, and his role to you is about to be ended. Let me do my job."

"Victoria!" said the King. "Know your place."

"I know mine, milord." She looked at Aife a moment longer, before stepping around her. "Does she know hers?"

Aife said nothing. She had never felt so small in the world. A paltry love affair amidst the gears of two nations. In the grand scheme of things, what did it matter?

"Find the other one too," said Murdock. "I believe a Sacaen."

"No. Wait! No!" said Matthew. "He doesn't do this. He doesn't know anything. He was just going to Sacae! He doesn't have anything to do with this!" He threw himself at the king's feet, his voice growing hoarser with each word. "Please…Your Highness." His face had gone white, his lips aquiver, "he has nothing to do with this. Do whatever you need to me."

The king hesitated. "You seem to make a plausible friend, I give you that. But again," this time he directed to Murdock, "we will see that he is not a threat."

Murdock nodded.

There was the sound of footsteps running. Captain Rick positioned himself by the door, ready with a spear.

Narshen.

"Aife!" he cried, completely out of breath. Then his eyes landed on the Matthew, bound at the king's feet. "I knew it. You! I could tell it from the start!" He pushed past Aife, saying, "Your Highness, I am deeply aggrieved that you did chance upon this cretin. I was about to have him thrown out just this eve. I would have personally killed him, if it seemed he was hurting Aife. But your men have already captured him, I see." Noticing Victoria, he added, "And women."

Zephiel motioned to Rick and Victoria. "We were just finished."

Aife watched Matthew's face as they hobbled him out. Matthew only watched Murdock's. Narshen was making some apology. Narshen was saying lots of things. Aife couldn't hear anything over the sound of blood rushing through her veins.

* * *

The world was becoming hazy from that point. At some point, the king had dismissed Narshen. Gone were the captains, and Murdock, his guard. She knew she was not dismissed, and in any case, she couldn't trust herself to move. But she also couldn't trust herself to anything. And then she didn't know how they had gotten to the balcony, or why she would want to be at the balcony, her ears were reaching for a sound, the sound, something to make her know if it was true. There was a sound of the night in her ears, like the sound of the ocean, and she could hardly hear Zephiel above it all, saying "I love you, I love you," punctuating all of them with kisses, to her temple, to her cheeks, to jawline, and her earlobes. And she was perhaps a little glad he did not kiss her lips. He was afraid to find them dead to him, so he pulled on her neck when his lips found it, and he pulled on her hair when his fingers found it, and he pulled on her waist when his hand found it, and he pulled her to bed for the night.

She turned her back to him, the whole of her dress, the skirt of the gown, piling around her like pillows he had to pat or move out of the way so he could pull close against her back.

"No!"

It was the first she spoke. To his surprise, she was turning, turning towards him. And he was happy to hold her close, not knowing she couldn't stand to feel his breath on her back, where just an hour ago Matthew's had been. That she was still listening, straining, to hear the spy's last.

The morning came cold through the balcony door left open. Aife woke to the king shivering against her for warmth. In his repose beside her, with his discerning eyes merely rolling under his eyelids, she could hardly think of the man as a king. In sleep, he was a man. Just a man, with one leg tangled somewhere inside the gown she had not doffed. She wanted to leave the bed, needed to, actually. Nature calls through triumph and tragedy. The idea of moving, of waking him, of having to deal with him, now, for a whole day, then another day, for however much more, kept her transfixed without complaint. The birds were calling and it was cold outside the blankets. She found herself shivering too.

She must have fallen asleep again, for golden sunbeams pooled in rectangles across the bed when her eyes opened next. The balcony door was closed, so the sunlight came in through the frame, and the cold was less cold, and the king was smiling warmly, half his face sunk into her pillow.

There was a knocking on the door.

"Stay here, my queen," he whispered, clambering out of the bed on the other side. It was Murdock, and after some quiet exchange, the king returned again.

"Hmm," he said. "Hiding?"

She sunk deeper into the blankets, not wanting to be seen, so she felt his weight over her stomach instead of seeing him.

"Typhit will be coming shortly, with a change of clothes," he said. "We have to eat. The others are waiting."

"I won't eat."

He couldn't hear her over muffled blankets. "Hmm?"

She struggled to displace him, pinned under blankets and wriggling to try to toss him off. She could hear him laugh, and then silence, and then suddenly the light blinding her face as he dug the blankets off, and a lightness when the weight was gone, and then back again, the weight, but this time…

His lips sucked hungrily for her tongue. The blanket was on the floor, and his hands were unbuttoning her gown. He had been straddling her. Straddling her again. She could feel herself flush, her breath coming short for gasps of air when she could pull away, her hands pushing on his chest so she could breathe, he was already sitting on her stomach, she couldn't breathe — and then she could. He had jumped off the bed and gone to the door, said something to the guard outside and locked it.

 _Pretend he's Matthew_. She could think nothing else. _But don't say his name! Say Zephiel's name. Your king!_

"Your Highness," she breathed.

He came to her slow. Skimming fingers tracing the top of her lip, his breath clinging to her eyelashes, as the gown came down. His hands knew where to go. His mouth would follow. Her hands were in his hair, tighter than could be comfortable, but she saw the wicked smile and realized he enjoyed the pressure. Pressure, the way he was pressing into her thighs now, with his teeth, and suddenly pulling her into a kiss, nibbling at her lips, pressing her skin against his until their bellies touched. Spinning across the bed, his hand a starfish between her breasts as he pushed her up towards the sky.

"Have you ridden a wyvern, Milady?" he asked. Her eyes widened. "Show me how you fly."

* * *

"Your Highness!"

Captain Rick and Captain Victoria squirmed, exchanging a glance as they walked wavering lances behind a new prisoner that afternoon. Zephiel had been expecting the Sacaen, and started when he saw who it was.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded. " _Murdock?_ "

"Milord," he responded.

The captains looked down when Zephiel glanced at them inquisitively. He did not want to ask either. "Explain yourself."

Murdock looked at Captain Victoria. She had started to lower her lance and taken her leave to give them privacy, but caught herself. "My apologies, General!" she said, hiking the lance back to its original place, at his neck and shaking.

"Do you know your place now, Captain?" King Zephiel could not stop himself from asking. He dismissed both captains and crossed his arms. "Well?"

"Your Highness." Murdock bent a knee in repentance. "I let that Lycian spy free." When he did not hear anything, when he dared raise his head, he saw the king to be thunderstruck. "The reason I let this particular man go, is because, there once was a time this very man saved your life."

"…What?"

"I dismissed the captains so they would not hear. But that night three years ago, when your father had removed me from your side, it was that Lycian spy who alerted me to return to your side. He, with his liege Marquess Ostia, and a select few of the Lycian League, with the Count of Reglay, had witnessed and prevented the attack on your life. This you may ask of your mother, the Queen."

For a moment, the King regarded him. "I see." His hand landed on the hilt of his sword, and the blade screamed out of its sheath.

It took several moments for Murdock to relocate which way was down. The buzzing was overwhelming, and the blood crept out of his ear like a worm. He watched the sword return into its sheath, with not a trace of blood. The flat of the blade. That was all it was. He was only given the flat of the blade.

For a long time, Murdock had no words. When they finally came: "Forgive me, Your Highness."

"Next time, Murdock, you will tell me these things," said the King. "The decision is mine."

Then Zephiel offered his hand. His eyes were glistening.

* * *

Narshen rapped on his sister's door a seventh time. "Aife!" He stepped back and huffed, rolling back onto the balls of his feet. He nodded to the locksmith. "What are you waiting for?"

The locksmith was a gruff man with a gruff mustache and a grumble indicative of Ilia. He could hardly believe he was being ordered to pick the lock of a ladies' room. Is that what men did here in Bern? By the Goddess, his wife was not going to be happy when she heard.

When the lock was opened, the lord swept in without a glance back. Since he'd already been paid in advance, the locksmith shrugged and made his exit, hurrying back to the passersby caravan in the town, eager to escape whatever lovers' quarrel was going on in that castle.

Aife was on the floor, tucked away deep into the recess between her bed and the bed stand she had pushed aside, head sunk in between her arms, shoulders shaking.

"Dear Sister, what happened?" Narshen frowned. Thinking better of it, he returned to lock the door again (or at least he hoped it still locked) and vaulted over his sister's bed and landed at her feet. He put a hand on her head, stroking through her hair. "Aife… Aife! What happened? What's wrong?"

After no response, he pulled up her arms by force. "Let me see you. Are you hurt? Aife! Let me see! Are you even listening?"

Aife pulled her arms back. "If you are looking for marks, you can leave it."

"Euugh… Aife, you can't be crying like that. This really does not suit your face. Dear gods, you look appalling!"

"Apologies," she sneered through snot.

Narshen continued to look like he had just discovered rotten eggs inside his pants.

"Aife…the people have to see you. They think the King did something awful to you."

"You want them to see this?"

"Of course not. Look presentable. What _are_ you crying about?"

"He killed him, Narshen."

"He killed who? …Surely not that dirty spy. Aife, you — " When he could utter words no more, he stood up, pacing rapidly. He had gone completely red in the face. "You can't let anyone know about this. They are going to suspect you. I don't know what you think you had with that man, but if I had known, Aife, you understand, don't you? I would have had to kill him. If it wasn't the king, _I_ would have had to. I am the Lord of this House!"

He stopped, turning to Aife with a plea, silhouetted against the blue sky through the windows so that he seemed only a black shadow talking to Aife. "Don't you realize what this could do to me? If you keep spurning the king's advances, blasted woman, I can hardly believe one would — they could think you are too a spy! And to think, I, Narshen, would harbor it!"

Aife looked to her brother, her face taking on a flatness. "Are you… Are you serious?"

"I mean, _look_ at what that impudent charlatan's done to you! If you had never met the man, why, you would right now be standing beside the king! Are you out of your mind? I told you this passion claptrap is a folly. Nothing ever is what it seems!"

"Aren't you saying that because it's _you_ you are describing?"

"Put down that vase. That vase is older than you. Older than the two of us combined. WAAAH!" He caught the vase, almost with his face, and quickly debunked it onto the bed, realizing too late that he'd merely returned Aife ammunition.

"I thought — you were — my _brother_!" She yelled in between throws.

"I am! And — please, no, that's Father's! HUAGH! Why else would I be telling you thi — AIFE THAT'S FATHER!"

Aife stopped throwing things. She was holding an urn. The one with her father's ashes. Nearly dropped it from the shock.

"Milord! Milady!"

The Tepalese nobility looked to the doorway, Lord Narshen with the tea cup and teapot he had saved from Aife's wrath drooping from both hands, Lady Aife with cobwebs of kohl streaked down her cheeks. It was Typhit.

"They've found the Sacaen! They've brought him back!"

* * *

"Guy, you said is your name?" Narshen was pacing a ring around the latest captive, Matthew's friend, who had been tied to a chair for the interrogation. King Zephiel and General Murdock sat along the dining table, his audience. Aife stood with her face covered under a shroud, flanked on each side by the two captains.

"I didn't tell you my name. But yes. My name is still Guy."

"And you knew that dirty little snitch for how long?"

Guy frowned. "He _is_ a dirty little snitch, isn't he? Well, he gave me some food a really long time ago, so I owed him. I owed him so many favors, it wasn't even funny. I try not to regret it."

Zephiel and Murdock exchanged glances.

"They say Sacaens never lie," began Narshen. "So we need you to tell us — "

"Gah, that again! Nobody ever gets that saying right. The correct version is: Sacaens never lie _by moonlight_."

Narshen faltered. "Shut your yap or I'll shut it permanently. With a screw."

Aife piped up, "That makes it very difficult to get information out of him, doesn't it?"

"Aife!"

"Sorry."

"Lady Aife, is that you?" Guy had his chair facing the opposite direction from her, so he craned his neck to look behind himself. "Why are you skulking in the corner like a shaman? And why am I tied to this chair?"

"Ah…"

Murdock leaned into the king's ear and whispered, "I don't think he knows anything."

Zephiel assented. "I can't see the spy entrusting him with anything either. This one's too stupid…"

"Lady Aife, please, this rope is itchy!"

Aife glanced at the king for permission. When Zephiel nodded, she moved to release Guy's binds as Narshen protested, "Wait! I'm not finished yet!"

"Send him back," said the king as he walked away, "back on his way, wherever he was picked up."

"Hey wait!" This protest came from Guy. Zephiel paused. "You're not putting me back on that monster again, are you?"

Zephiel kept walking.

"Wait! I hate flying! Wait! No! Milord! Don't do this to me! WAAAAIT!"

* * *

"Guy," Aife started, at the gates of the castle to bid him goodbye. She had helped him fend off the provided 'help' the king had offered, so that he may simply go back to walking his way home.

"Yes, Lady?"

"You… You know, right? That Matthew is…"

Guy looked away. "He had sent me away, for exactly this reason."

"…How?" Aife could not comprehend. "You mean he foresaw this? Then why didn't he go with you?"

"He wouldn't have gone with me. I was going to Sacae. He was returning to Ostia."

She could see how his Adam's apple bobbed as he said the words. "But _why didn't he leave_? If he had time?"

"Because he wanted to see you."

Aife put a hand over her mouth, tears falling. "Because of me? This is my fault."

Guy met her eyes. "That's what I've been thinking."

She looked away.

"He was almost finished," Guy continued.

"What?"

"This was supposed to be his last mission. He was giving up the spying act, for good. If it weren't for you, he would have been in Araphen three days ago."

"Araphen?"

"A canton of Lycian. That's where he grew up, though he considers himself a man of Ostia. It was where he could get away from the life he had to forge for himself. He wanted to go to a place where he could be honest again."

Aife chuckled. "I want to go somewhere I can be honest too."

Guy was already walking away. "Hah. Perhaps Araphen."

* * *

Several nights later, the king had run a hand up her right arm, and it came skimming fresh gooseflesh. The bedroom, it seemed, was the only place they found privacy. "Did you want to get married first?" he asked.

"No," she spoke into a pillow.

He pulled her out of her pillow and into his embrace, speaking into her lips. "Aife…"

"What?"

"Though he was married to my mother, my father loved another woman."

Aife pulled away, repulsed. "I know."

"My mother was a bitter woman."

Aife scoffed. "Why shouldn't she be?"

Zephiel paused a moment. Then said, "Between the two of us, _I_ would be my mother."

Aife was silent.

Zephiel leaned into her neck and breathed deeply. "I don't want to become my mother. And I will not become my father." The hands on her back were pulling her into him, hard. "I refuse to become that way. If you were to love another, to truly love another… I couldn't hold you. I wouldn't. I will not become my mother. And so…" He pulled back. "You can go. But I plead…pray come to the capitol with me."

She sought for truth in his eyes. And then, she gathered his arms from behind her, and placed his hands one atop the other on his chest. He looked away.

The morning after, she was throwing up or on the verge of it for hours. When she looked into Typhit's eyes, she knew what was happening. She wrapped her arms around her belly. She didn't want this.

How ludicrous it was for the king to say such things _after_ he had done the deed. Did she want them to be married first? What was the purpose of asking such a question at this time? And of course it wouldn't occur to him that some woman wouldn't want his child. Had he put even the slightest serious thought, he would have consulted his mother, her brother, the court. She couldn't tell if he was being sentimental or simply mental last night. How could he compare himself to his mother, and her to his father, if the mistress in the equation was _dead_? Why should she have to deal with the repercussions of his negligence and his impulse? If the biggest decisions of her life were made without her say, what was to say the rest of her life would not be decided without her say? What would she do at the capitol, when her capitol was right here? She could not claim to assist him in his duties. She did not want any queenly duties. Would it be easier now, to surrender to a higher power, like the followers of St. Elimine, a people she believed used their savior as an excuse not to rise up themselves?

And how ludicrous it now seemed, that she hadn't flocked under Elimine's wing, where she could be chaste and she might have escaped. That she had even come to a position where she would think of that as an option! She thought of little more than the undoing of the days, and with each day it became harder.

* * *

"When will we get married?" the king said the night before he left, Aife once again tucked into his bed, an appendage of his bedroom.

She said, "No."

"No?" Zephiel sat up. The look on his face was severe. "That's my son inside of you."

"No."

"No?" His eyes filled with fear. "It can't be…"

"No," she said, recognizing the need to be extremely explicit. "The child inside is not his child. But I will not let you call it yours. This is _my_ child inside of me."

Zephiel scoffed. "You won't marry me? You know you cannot marry anyone, now, now that you are with child. And with my child. Who would dare to marry you? You think you can raise this — on your own?"

"Say it."

"You — "

"Say what you were about to say."

"That is my child, and he will come live with me."

"You will have to pry him from my cold, dead fingers. Or _her_."

"Aife. _This is my firstborn_."

She felt her heart jump a little.

"So it _has_ to be a boy," Zephiel finished.

She caught herself from flying into another fit of rage. "Wasn't your father trying to make Princess Guinivere the rightful heir of Bern? I thought the days of male inheritance were fifty years past."

"Not amongst the noble class."

Aife turned her back on the king, squeezing her eyes shut and aiming to fall asleep as swiftly as could be.

"You can come change that, milady. Come to court, and suit it to your ways."

"Good night, King Zephiel."

"Lady Aife…"

"Good night."

"The spy is alive."

Aife opened her eyes. She sat up, faced him and whispered, "You let him go?"

The king hesitated, and then said, "He had once saved my life."

" _Matthew_ did?"

"He, and Marquess Ostia."

Aife digested this information. She could see his features, blue from moonlight.

"What are you going to do?" he asked her.

 _I am going to Araphen._

But he already knew, because he put his hands on each side of her face, and met his forehead with hers. "Go."


	8. The Lady of Tepal

**A/N: Just for you, AquaticSilver. ;)**

* * *

"And you have balm for the headaches?"

"Yes, Lucius, I have the balm."

"Did I not give you the bigger one, Lord Raymond?"

"That's too heavy for light travel, Lucius."

The voices of old acquaintances was remarkably soothing for Matthew. He lay sideways across three of the cots the children of the orphanage slept on, trying not to wince at his hair being pulled from above by either Lugh or Rey — whichever was the meaner of Nino's toddler twins. Sunlight sprawled across his eyelids as he tried to go back to sleep, but old habits died hard, or just plain never died at all; he couldn't help eavesdropping on Lucius fretting over Raven's — or Lord Raymond's — departure.

He'd expected the monk to be here, in Araphen. The man had often spoken of the plan to run this orphanage for months. But he had never anticipated to find Raven here when he returned. And he seemed by now a new man. No longer begrudging House Ostia, Lucius explained, when he realized the rumors he had taken for fact did not add up with what he witnessed of Lord Eliwood, and eventually, Lord Hector himself.

 _Still on his quest for revenge though,_ Matthew thought to himself. The old Matthew would be inclined to follow him. But he just merely shrugged.

Then he cried out. "REY!" He threw his arms upwards and grabbed the spunky toddler, swinging him up towards the sky. "Stop _doing_ that!"

The green-haired devil squealed, quite happy, in no way understanding that he was experiencing punishment.

"Eugh," Matthew muttered. "LUCIUUUUUS! This one's smelling bad."

He heard the monk excuse himself frantically, and then approaching steps.

"That's not Rey," he told Matthew. "That one's Lugh."

"I don't care. He smells like poo." He couldn't help himself, wagging the baby back and forth with a smile. "Poo. Lugh. Poo. Lugh. Eww eww eww." And then he got some eww-eww in his face, courtesy of Lugh's mouth. "Aaaugh!"

He heard a suddenly urgent tone in Raven's voice when he called from the kitchens. "Lucius, I am leaving now!"

"Milord?" said Lucius, taking the child into his arms.

 _He even holds it like a woman,_ Matthew sighed internally as he saw Lucius hoist Lugh onto his side. _The man even has_ ** _hips_** _!_

"Leaving so soon?" Lucius called out.

"You will soon know why!" Raven called out, and then he was gone.

Matthew and Lucius exchanged a glance, followed by a familiar "SQUEEEEEE!"

Matthew popped off the cots. "Oh no." Places to hide. He was supposed to be good at this. This was an orphanage. There was never any place to hide. "Save me, Elimine, from those of your very own!" he pleaded, getting onto all fours to avoid being seen through the windows. He crawled the to the back exit of the room, twenty-four cots away.

"That _is_ you, oh, isn't it, Raven? Are you happy to see _me_?"

Some muted response. Raven didn't get away either. Matthew dodged Lugh's brother, Rey, on his valiant escape attempt — _almost there almost there_ — monitoring the closeness of the voice as it approached the entrance.

"Why, Serra!" Lucius called from inside, walking towards the door.

"It's been _yeeeears_. Almost four!" Serra was saying to Raven, and then to somebody else, "Oh, you need to meet Raven."

"Oof!" Matthew collided with the third to last cot, having just been tackled by Rey from behind. Jaffar's kids were about to get him killed. "Stupid…kid! Let go of me! Fine! You're about to kidnapped!"

He grabbed the kid and made for the door.

"— and that's Rey," he heard Lucius saying, and he didn't want to glance back, but he knew it was too late. Serra was already holding up Lugh, identified Rey, and identified Matthew.

"I foooound yooooou!" she announced, a smirk in her voice.

"Juuust great," said Matthew. "Rey, _stop biting me_!" Then froze.

Beside Serra stood Lady Aife, once more in the simple attire she had worn in her journey back from Bern's capitol to her home. Lucius was greeting Aife as Serra rushed over to him with a grin, exploiting his preoccupation by loading a second twin onto his other arm as she said, "She met with Lord Hector, so Lord Hector sent her with me to you!"

"Did he really…"

"Truly, truly! Go talk to her."

Aife was looking at him. She kept glancing over at him, trying to give him a smile.

He asked, "What do I say?"

"Oh, anything, Matthew," said Serra. "Don't be such a bore!" She gleefully clapped her hands together. "I want to see this reunion."

Matthew swallowed. "You didn't have to bring Serra, you know." He couldn't believe it. He couldn't let her know that he couldn't believe it, but he couldn't believe it. "You could have just come by yourself."

" _Hey!_ "

"Serra has been a marvelous help," said Aife. "Unlike somebody else I know."

And then, because he couldn't think of anything else, Matthew indicated Lugh. "Want to help me change this one's diaper?"

The look on her face was the same one she had when he asked her to kiss him after he jumped in wyvern dung. She answered, "I'll hold Rey."

* * *

He worked effectively. Matthew had been coming to the orphanage on occasion for the last two months, happy to surround himself with a chaos that was not his problem. He was in a terribly boring clerking role Marquess Hector had connected to him here in Araphen. Under not Lucius, but _Raven's_ guidance, he had learned a thing or two about taking care of the children. Lugh was certainly being taken care of, from the way he giggled at all of Matthew's faces. Preoccupying the babe was important, though in all honesty, he might have been trying to preoccupy himself more than anybody else in that moment.

Aife watched him quietly. Inches. She was only inches away from him, from his left arm. He could skim hers with his elbow if he liked. He could turn to see her expression if he liked. He could see her looking at his face if he only chose to look at hers.

He could do so many things.

Neither of them could break the silence between them. There was only Lucius and Serra talking in the other room, and Rey's constant babbling here as he tried grabbing hold of Aife's earrings. Either one would do. Matthew found himself unable to stop smiling at the simple war occurring alongside him.

At last, Lugh was armed with a new cloth diaper, the old cloth diaper dropped into a basket for wash, and nothing for the two to do except stare at each others' mugs as the twins began fighting.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Aife asked at last. When Matthew seemed not to understand, "That you were set free. That you were alive. That you were — anything!"

"That's what I don't understand," said Matthew. "Who told you I was alive?"

"The King himself."

Matthew scowled.

"He said that you had saved his life. And so…"

Matthew prepared himself to lie again. _No_. That was his old work. That was his old life. He didn't have to live that way anymore. He still had to remind himself that he didn't have to live that way anymore. "What did he say exactly? That he let me go?"

Aife faltered. "He didn't?"

"The reason I didn't tell you before I was leaving is…because even the King Zephiel did not know I was leaving."

"What?"

Matthew set down his half of the twins, and Lugh bolted to find Lucius, Rey close behind him. "The man who set me free wasn't King Zephiel. It was General Murdock."

He could see she was disappointed. He tried not to let it bother him. "So…" It hurt to ask. "Why are you here?" She didn't belong here.

She cleared her throat and itched the tip of her nose. "Let's see if I remember… Nope. Nope, it's gone now. It's very gone."

"Come on now."

"I'm here to tell you…you were wrong."

"…What?"

"I know what love feels like now." She cleared her throat again, turning red. "You never know it's love until you have it, and you never know how much it's worth until you lose it." Her smile was faltering. "Isn't that…something you said?"

"…Is it?"

She punched him. "Liar! That's exactly what you said, word for word!" Seeing Matthew's slowly-widening grin, she crossed her arms with a "Hmph!"

Matthew put his hands on his hips and took a step closer. "And?"

"So you were wrong."

"You already said that, but what I'm wrong about, you've yet to tell me," said Matthew.

"Wrong about me not being in love with you. Wrong about knowing you have it when you have it. I couldn't even manage that." She gave an exasperated sigh. "This is embarrassing. Are you really going to make me do this?"

His nose was almost skimming that of Aife's. "One hundred percent."

She groaned. She chuckled. She looked into his eyes. She pulled away, pulling her lips between her teeth. He didn't ask what she wasn't telling him. He didn't ask why. He took her face into her hands and put his thumbs upon her cheeks, sweeping the lids underneath.

"Ready when you are," he said. "Just needed to warm up for drying up your tears."

"Oh, shut up, you stupid."

"Your insults have degenerated to the level of Bartre. Did you get stupid without me?"

She took a hold of his wrists.

"Okay," he said at last, "let's be serious now."

"I was a coward. And undeserving."

"That's not true."

"I didn't know we could have a future," she went on, eyes glistening, "until Guy told me what you'd intended to do. To give up that life. To stop that work."

He looked away. "He shouldn't have told you. …Wait. How did you hear from Guy?"

"You had him sent away, I know, but King Zephiel had him brought back." Seeing his terror, she interjected, "But Matthew, he's fine! Don't worry. He fares well. And…"

There was a pregnant pause. She couldn't look him in the eyes anymore. She pulled his hands down by his wrists, pulling his fingers off her moistened cheeks, bringing them to the bulge he had noticed when he saw the change in her gait.

He wasn't going to put his hands there. She had never been with him. That was not his child. His hands struck out of their own accord, lacing themselves behind her back. He could see her shoulders crumpling inwards. He could see her caving inside of herself now. Rejected. He made the wrong move, and he knew it. But she made the wrong move too! …and she knew it too.

But they couldn't just keep on making wrong moves. So he sank onto his knees, slid his nose down the length of her face, down to her belly, where his arms still linked behind her and held her in an embrace, and he kissed her navel. He breathed her in for a moment, gritting his teeth against the contact.

When he looked up to Aife, he put on a smile and said, "I didn't expect to have to be a dad _this_ soon. We're really moving fast, aren't we?"

Her eyes widened, incredulous, and she put a hand over her mouth, biting hard as the tears broke out of control. He felt her sink into his arms and caught her sobs within his arms, holding her so tight he thought it should hurt her. His chin upon her head, the tips of his fingers wiped away his own tears.

"Matthew," she said, when she finally pulled away.

"What is it, milady?" His thumbs ran over the sticky flesh of her tear-stained cheeks.

"Will you marry me?"

He frowned. "Now, hey, that's supposed to be _my_ line!"

She smiled. "You rubbed off on me. I resort to stealing your lines."

"That sounds bad. I'm supposed to be living an honest life now."

She laughed. "I guess it's too late for that."

"You can't be serious…"

"Mmm. Your answer, please."

"This is embarrassing. Are you really going to make me do this?"

She grinned so wide. "One hundred percent."

"Well then. It's a deeeeefinite maybe."

"What!?"

"Yesyesyes. The answer is yes, dummy!"

"Why didn't you _say_ so!"

He laughed as she wrestled with him, trying to find a way to punish him.

The next question, though, he felt was majorly unfair.

"What should we name it?" asked she.

He was struggling with the very concept when she said, "If the child is a girl…let's name her Leila."

He couldn't breathe for a long moment. It must have been Serra. Serra told her.

He pulled the woman in his arms into a deep, slow kiss, that pushed her back against one of the cots. The cot frame screeched against the floor as it slid away, jerking them out of the moment.

"And if it's a boy?" she asked, breathless.

"Chad," Matthew stated. "I like Chad."


End file.
